The Mind Alchemist
by Steph's
Summary: Mustang and his men arrest a mysterious alchemist for performing unwanted transmutations in the streets. But while Roy deals with the criminal, a mentally ill young lad, another crisis begins. One of his subordinates suddenly develops a severe mental illness that might be related to the case. Slight Royai
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **No, Fullmetal Alchemist doesn't belong to me. I'm just borrowing the poor characters, with slightly evil intentions.

I just want to let everybody know that this story has been finished, so I will post it till the end.

I want to say a big thank you to my awesome beta-reader, Ssadropout! Thanks for the patience with all the long chapters and the rewritten parts!

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**The Mind Alchemist**

**Chapter 1- The Eerie Hands  
**

The clock ticked its way slowly that Monday morning. The store was full of customers as usual, and Mr. Perry, the owner, was in a great mood. Even his weird assistant seemed like a nice person for him that day.

"Andrew! We're running out of water bottles. Will ya bring some up here, kid?"

Andrew looked at him attentively for a few seconds, like he was reading a book with small print. Mr. Perry had gotten used to that by now. Andrew was a young healthy man, but he sure was the weirdest person Perry knew. When anybody talked to him, he would pay attention to every word, but the rest of the time, he seemed to be in a different world.

"Right away, Mr. Perry," he answered, heading to the basement of the store.

Andrew went down one of the aisles, hoping not to meet anybody. He could hear too many people talking all at the same time already.

"_It's not my fault! I swear to God it's not my fault…"_

"_I'm afraid there's nothing we can do…"_

"_It's my birthday, Dad…"_

Andrew shook his head, trying to focus on anything around him. The door to the basement. It was dark, made of wood, and the knob was almost falling off. Andrew tried to focus on the doorknob that needed to be repaired. The voices quieted for a moment, and Andrew started counting the steps as he walked down the stairs.

"_One, two, three…_"

He tried to picture each number inside his head. The numbers seemed to take away all the rest.

He used to be successful in keeping everything away from his mind, but lately, it had been difficult. He had received some worrisome news and realized he needed to do something about his life. He should have done something before, but no. He hadn't done anything. However, that was about to change.

He took the water bottles upstairs and rushed back to the basement. There, under the faint light of a lamp, he opened an old notebook with yellowed pages. Carefully, he studied the alchemy symbols drawn on it in another time. As no one was around, he got a pencil and drew the symbol on a piece of cardboard. When he touched it, the cardboard moved in the air, taking the form of a hand. Andrew looked at his work with a smirk. He hadn't attempted alchemy for years, but surely hadn't forgotten it either.

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**One week later**

Central City had always been an interesting place to walk around and see the stores. However, for Edward and Alphonse, coming to the capital usually meant work.

"What does this have to do with us, anyway?" Edward complained loudly, laying the newspaper on the restaurant table to look at Alphonse.

The armored boy moved a little on his chair, wishing it was big enough to accommodate him more comfortably. His metal body made a noise, drawing people's attention to him. Alphonse was already used to it, so he just ignored the weird looks cast upon him.

"Well, the guy is an alchemist," he said.

"Yes, I get that, but come on! Some weirdo is transmuting hands out of stone on the streets, and now Mustang orders me to come here? He should be able to deal with this by himself."

Alphonse sighed in frustration. Edward had been the one to join the army. As he got paid for it, he should expect some work to do.

"If you ask me, I think he just likes being a slave driver," Edward groused, folding the paper and handing it to Alphonse in case the younger Elric wanted to read it.

The waitress brought Edward's lunch, and the boys were quiet for a few minutes, until the older alchemist finished eating and stood up. They left for the headquarters, hoping to meet Mustang as soon as possible. This way they would find out what they had to do before they could resume their search for the Philosopher's Stone.

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"Tell me again. Why are we here?"

"Because you decided to be an army dog. Now you have to do what you're told to do, Fullmetal," Mustang replied dryly, getting a file from the drawer.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. But why do you need our help? Are the higher-ups on your ass again, and now you need our help?" Edward asked, crossing his legs and leaning back on his chair.

Mustang didn't show any signs of having been bothered by the offenses. In fact, he couldn't care less.

"We want to arrest this guy, but he's no big threat. We can't spend time and money placing guards on every street, so I thought you could do something to deserve your salary for a change."

Edward raised an eyebrow at him, annoyed, before Mustang continued.

"We are going to be patrolling in the street tonight. This guy has transmuted something every night, so we'll be looking for anyone suspicious."

The Colonel handed Edward the file he had. Inside it there was a bunch of photographs, from six different transmutations. They were basically all the same, hands, made out of the walls of buildings or the pavement of the street. Some of them were about two meters high and they all had been transmuted in places where they hampered the traffic or blocked the sidewalks.

The mysterious alchemist surely had called attention from the press. Even the radio news broadcaster had mentioned him almost every day in the past week.

"We're going to patrol tonight, right?" Alphonse asked this time.

"That's right," Mustang replied, getting some documents Lieutenant Hawkeye had just brought. "That will be all for now. I want you to be here at six in the evening."

"We'll be here," Alphonse said, while Edward didn't bother to say anything else.

The two brothers left, hoping to get some rest since they might have to be awake all night long.

And just like they had already expected, all of them had to spend the whole night patrolling. Edward had paired up with Havoc and was very tired when the first beams of sunlight showed up early in the morning. Havoc was much taller than Edward, and the alchemist had to hurry up to keep up with him. He could have asked Jean to walk more slowly, but the older Elric would never admit his height to be a problem in any situation. Alphonse had been patrolling with Falman and just like everybody else, hadn't found anything.

As seven o'clock approached, some lower-rank soldiers who had been out in the street came looking for Mustang. They met Hawkeye near one of the small military posts in the city and informed her of a new transmutation. A giant hand had been transmuted from the wall of the city's post office, only four blocks away from the military headquarters. The press would make the soldiers look like some lousy joke when they heard about that.

"Oh, that's just great," Mustang said sarcastically, when he saw the huge hand connecting the post office and the building on the other side of the alley.

The transmutation was big enough to link the two buildings, which were separated by a narrow alley. The hand emerged elegantly from one wall, and its index finger touched the opposite wall. If it could be called art, it would be considered interesting. But right there, adorning the dingy alley, it looked eerie at best.

"I can turn it back to normal," Edward offered hopefully. He just wanted to call it a day and leave.

"Not now. We'll look for any clues first. You can canvass the area, check if anybody saw anything. I'll deal with that," Mustang concluded, pointing at a group of reporters, armed with cameras and notepads and complaining at the soldiers who didn't let them come closer.

Edward sighed in frustration and joined the other soldiers, who were already discussing who would go where to talk to all the people who lived in the area. After such a long night he just wanted to go to a hotel and sleep, but nobody would be able to do that any time soon.

"When we find the moron who transmuted that, I'll kick his ass!" the alchemist complained to his younger brother.

"I wonder what this person wants to accomplish with these transmutations. They have to mean something," Alphonse said, looking around.

Havoc and Fuery were discussing about the area around and from which windows somebody might have seen something. Falman was talking to some other soldiers, Breda was at the other end of the alley looking for anything out of the ordinary, and Hawkeye was underneath the transmutation, examining it.

"Let's see if they found anything interesting," Ed said, trying to keep the sleepiness away.

The two brothers joined Lieutenant Hawkeye, who was looking at the symbol drawn on the wall with chalk.

It had been drawn carefully, which suggested the person had taken some time there.

"This is a very good place to hide and draw," Riza told the boys when they stood by her side, also examining the symbol.

"Yeah… The walls would hide anyone here," Edward admitted, as he couldn't see the windows of any apartments from that specific place.

However, the light of the transmutation coming from a dark alley in the middle of the night should have called somebody's attention. After all, they were near the headquarters and there should be soldiers around.

"He got lucky nobody saw him," Breda said, joining them as well. "There were many guards around this area."

Edward was going to say something in agreement, when they all heard a metallic noise. Something like dust fell on Alphonse's suit of armor, and then a loud crack was heard.

Colonel Mustang was trying to calm the reporters by saying the army was dealing with the case and would soon solve it, when he also heard the loud crack coming from the alley. He held his breath when he turned around and saw the big hand, transmuted out of the wall, falling apart. Underneath the big transmutation, were Hawkeye, Breda, and the Elric brothers. Havoc, Fuery, Falman, and other soldiers who were around, started yelling, telling the others to get away from there.

The transmuted hand broke in pieces still in the air. Loose bricks came down in Breda's direction and hit nothing but metal. Alphonse had been quite fast and had managed to shield the red-haired soldier. Together, the two of them ran into the alley and away from the collapsing hand. Edward and Hawkeye, on the other hand, ran in the opposite direction, trying to get out of the alley and back into the main street.

For a moment, Mustang was relieved to see them getting away, but then realized that part of the collapsing structure was going to fall right on their heads. A considerably big part of it.

Edward could have tried to transmute something to shield them, but the whole thing was falling apart. In panic, he managed to transmute the pavement in a catapult style, propelling both him and Hawkeye away from the danger. A loud explosion followed, destroying some pieces of bricks in the air, and guaranteeing their safety. Mustang had managed to explode one last piece of the wall, which had been tossed in their direction.

"Are you all right?" Mustang asked in a worried tone, coming to help Hawkeye get back on her feet.

The other soldiers were coming as well to check on them. Even though Edward's alchemy had tossed him and Riza a couple of meters in the air, they had no serious injuries.

"I'm OK," Hawkeye replied, taking the hand her superior offered to help her stand up.

"Edward?" Mustang asked the blond boy, who was still on the ground, in the same position he had landed, not very glamorously.

"OK," the lad said, sitting up and rubbing his head with a painful expression.

Breda and Alphonse came back, after walking around the block. The transmutation had fallen apart completely, but luckily, no one had been injured. As Mustang sighed in relief, the crowd started to gather around the entrance of the alley, where the soldiers ordered people to go away.

Andrew brushed his blond hair away from his eyes and observed the soldiers in silence. There, in the middle of the crowd, he wouldn't call any attention to himself as he tried to sift the voices. He had just noticed something interesting, that black-haired man. The colonel who had been talking to the press. Andrew struggled to get closer to him, paying attention to the sounds other people could not hear. He mentally sifted through hundreds of voices, trying to distinguish the one that belonged to that man.

And then he heard something. In a mix of emotions, the voice Andrew wanted to hear echoed inside his head. Colonel Mustang was about 15 feet away from him, staring at the ruined alley, not saying a word. However, his voice stormed inside Andrew's head, talking about things that had happened a long time ago.

Andrew made an effort to focus on that man's voice only, as he studied him, searching for what he needed. A weakness. The night had been long, but had been definitely worth it, Andrew thought, as he finally found what he wanted. Funny enough, nobody suspected the quiet and skinny lad among the horde of reporters.

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**A/N: **So, what did you think so far? You'll understand more of what's going on quite soon. Be brave and come back for the next chapter! And don't forget to leave a review with your opinion! Thanks for reading and see you next week!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Guess what? (Dramatic song playing) Fullmetal Alchemist doesn't belong to me!

I want to say thank you to my awesome beta-reader Ssadropout for beta-reading this fic and for reviewing the last chapter.

I also want to say thanks to Wolftimber for your review!

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**The Mind Alchemist**

**Chapter 2 – An Acute Onset**

The incident in the alley had made it to the news very quickly. The radio broadcaster mentioned it many times during the day, and soon everyone in the city had heard about it. Rumors said the transmutation was the work of some alchemist who had been dismissed from the army. Those rumors however, were as trustworthy as the ones from the month before, about a ghost making weird noises on the main street during the night. Although the ghost had turned out to be a dog stuck in a dumpster, the story about the alchemist still needed some rational explanation.

"How did this guy manage to transmute that and escape unnoticed?" Breda asked the others annoyed, going through the report again.

"Luck?" Havoc suggested.

"Once is luck, all right. But he's been doing this the whole week," Breda complained.

"Maybe he's a soldier," Falman said.

Everyone laid the documents and pens down, thinking about the possibility. Mustang had already ordered the files from every known alchemist in the city, especially the ones who worked for the army. No one matching their descriptions had been seen that night, though.

"A soldier _and_ unregistered alchemist?" Lieutenant Hawkeye said.

"It's worth checking," Colonel Mustang replied.

Havoc let out a tired sigh, and the others weren't exactly happy either. It meant another day working in the office, after a whole night awake. As everybody was very tired, Mustang decided to send them home by noon, so they could get some sleep before they went back on patrol at night.

Once again, tired and without the slightest idea of who could be the criminal or why could he be transmuting those hands, Mustang and his men went on patrol. As Roy had been sent to Central recently, such boring tasks as arresting weirdoes for disturbing the peace were often assigned to him. It was the way other high-rank soldiers, who felt threatened by his quick rank escalation, had found to make his life a little more complicated.

Like the night before, soldiers were patrolling in pairs, not talking to each other unless it was necessary. They looked everywhere carefully, trying to see any lights that could be the sign of a transmutation in process.

As a trained soldier, Lieutenant Hawkeye could manage to remain awake and fully alert even when tired. She strode down the narrower streets, Sergeant Fuery by her side, making an effort to walk at the same pace as her. Neither of them said a word, trying to listen for any noises around. A car door was slammed in the other block. A dog barked a hundred feet away or so. An owl made a low funny sound and some women chatted happily on the other side of the street. It was only ten o'clock at night, and too many people were still out on the street.

Hawkeye and Fuery went back to the First Avenue, which was still in a whirl of activity. Many dingy alleys originated from the avenue and they might be a good hideout for the mysterious alchemist to transmute something. The soldiers hoped to find someone hiding in a dark corner, trying to look unsuspicious, but weren't very optimistic. The alchemist surely wouldn't try to transmute anything with so many people around to witness his work.

Nevertheless, there in the main avenue, Kain and Riza noticed a lanky man who was leaning against the wall, throwing something up in the air and catching it back. He did this repeatedly, always catching the small object again.

"He's looking at us," Fuery said.

Hawkeye confirmed it with a quick nod, and they both kept walking towards the stranger, until they were close enough to see the object the man was playing with looked like a piece of chalk. Blue eyes locked in on them although they were still too far to notice their color. A mean smile darkened the man's features and that was when a light dazzled them for a second. The ground rose, forming something like a hand, coming out to get them. The alchemy symbol had been drawn on the sidewalk, but they hadn't seen it until the stranger activated it.

Both Fuery and Hawkeye lost their balance and almost fell to the ground as the man took off on a sprint. After a couple of seconds, they recovered from the shock and followed the man, running as fast as they could, their guns in hand. They couldn't afford losing such a chance to arrest the perpetrator.

The alchemist was a fast runner, but not as fast as the soldiers. He had gotten a head start, but that wouldn't save him from being caught. The commotion called the attention from other people, and soon two more soldiers came from another narrow street, joining the pursuit in the avenue. The criminal looked behind and saw Havoc and Edward, still more than a block away, but coming towards him as well. Those two were the least of his worries though. Hawkeye was only a couple of meters behind him now. In desperation, he crossed the street, barely avoiding a car that was coming. Lieutenant Hawkeye on the other hand, wasn't as lucky.

The tires screamed as the driver pushed the brake, and the car violently came to a halt with a thud.

"Hawkeye!" Fuery yelled, when the car managed to stop but still hit Hawkeye, making her fall to the ground.

"I'm okay!" she yelled, relieved that nothing bad had happened. "Go get him!" she ordered. Sergeant Fuery nodded and kept running after the criminal.

Havoc and Edward came as well, asking Hawkeye if she was all right.

"Stay with her, Ed!" Havoc said and followed Sergeant Fuery.

"I'm fine," Riza insisted, but Edward stayed anyway. She stood up, rubbing a scrape on the palm of her hand, and joined the pursuit again moments later.

The unidentified alchemist could only be thankful for the fact that the car had accidentally hit Hawkeye. He was already tired and his muscles hurt. He wasn't used to this kind of vigorous exercise. Relieved, he saw the entrance to another alley not far ahead. He turned left and got just a glimpse of the person who was almost catching up with him.

"_Damn it!"_ he thought, as he saw the short dark-haired soldier coming right after him. It was too late to change the plan now.

The alchemist jumped over the wooden boards on the ground and ran towards the fence at the end of the alley. Climbing over it, he could easily get to another large and busy street, where hiding would be a lot easier.

Havoc was right after them too and was almost catching up with Fuery. The tall lieutenant saw the sergeant turn left into the alley as well. A couple of seconds later there was a light he knew well. Alchemy. Worried, Havoc also turned left into the alley. What he saw, though, didn't seem half as bad as he had expected. Fuery had stopped running. He had probably been obfuscated by the light, Havoc thought. The criminal, on the other hand, was trying to climb over a fence and had apparently gotten stuck on it. His pants had been caught by a piece of twisted wire and he couldn't free himself.

Kain was still standing there, his hands covering his face, which reinforced Havoc's quickly formulated hypotheses that the light had temporarily affected his vision. Thus, the lieutenant ran past the sergeant, jumping over the wooden boards and bricks blocking the way, and finally grabbing the unidentified alchemist by his leg. With a tug, Havoc managed to bring the guy down, surprised at what he saw.

The criminal couldn't be over eighteen, maybe nineteen years old. He was thin and had an unhealthy appearance and an angry look in his eyes. Havoc managed to keep the lad down on the ground, as he turned around to check on Fuery.

"Are you all right?"

However, the sergeant didn't seem to have heard him. He was now frantically turning around, like looking for somebody who wasn't there. Havoc couldn't see anyone or anything around him, but the sergeant kept turning around in fear, for no apparent reason.

"What are you doing?" Jean yelled very confused.

"Who is… Who's…" Fuery started saying, turning around again.

"Sergeant!" Havoc called.

Instead of looking at the lieutenant, Kain got his glasses with one hand and rubbed his eyes with the other, mumbling unintelligibly. Lieutenant Hawkeye and Edward ran into the alley almost at the same time, slowing down once they saw Havoc had things under control. They quickly noticed Jean wasn't worried about the guy he had just caught. He was staring at Fuery, who had walked backwards and had pressed himself against the wall, breathing with tremendous effort.

"Sergeant, what happened?" Lieutenant Hawkeye asked, walking hurriedly towards him. The moment she touched his arm to get him to look at her, the lad gasped and took a step to the side, getting away from her. He shot a scared look in her direction, almost tripping as he took another step back.

"What's… what's going on?" Fuery asked, suddenly staring at Lieutenant Hawkeye in desperation, like she could give him an answer for whatever that question meant.

"Can you breathe normally?" she asked, thinking that he almost seemed to be having an asthma attack.

Kain looked up instead of answering and screamed. Everyone looked in the same direction immediately, ready to run away from a possible attack. However, all they could see was the night sky. The three of them looked around, then at Fuery and finally back at the sky. There was nothing. It was all quiet but for Fuery's panicked voice.

"Go away!"

"What's going on?" Hawkeye insisted, keeping a distance so as not to scare him more. "What is it?"

"Will you calm down?" Edward complained, taking a few steps towards Kain to try to slap him back to reality.

Despite his slightly violent intentions, Edward didn't expect Fuery to react. The sergeant was far too calm and quiet to do anything.

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Colonel Mustang had been patrolling with Second Lieutenant Breda when they received the news that his subordinates had arrested the criminal. His relief didn't last so long, though. About ten minutes later, when Roy and Heymans were heading to the headquarters, Edward came to meet them and he seemed worried.

"What happened?" Mustang asked, pointing at Edward's face. It was easy to see the lad had taken a blow, judging by the bruise that was taking shape around his eye.

"I don't really know," Edward answered. "We got the criminal, but something happened to Sergeant Fuery."

"What happened?"

"Good question. He's just… not himself."

"What do you mean?" Breda asked.

"The other soldiers took the criminal to jail, so Lieutenant Havoc and Lieutenant Hawkeye were going to take him to the hospital," Edward explained.

Irritated that Edward couldn't provide him with any more specific information, Mustang turned around and rushed to the hospital, followed by Breda and Edward. The blond alchemist almost had to run to keep up with the taller soldiers, something that was already getting on his nerves.

When they got to the Emergency Room in the hospital, it was all awkwardly silent. Riza and Jean were sitting in the corridor outside one of the rooms, both looking tired and rather shocked.

"He's been sedated," Riza said as a response to Edward's confused expression when they heard nothing but silence.

"What the hell happened?" Mustang asked, walking inside the room to find his subordinate lying down, apparently asleep. Fuery didn't have his glasses and was still dressed in his uniform. The colonel noticed his bandaged wrist and for a moment he thought Kain had been injured, but then realized the bandage was actually tied around his wrist and the bedrail as a way of restraining the patient.

The doctor who was apparently taking care of the case brought his index finger to his own lips, asking Roy to be quiet and then pointed at the door. They left in morbid silence, Mustang getting even more annoyed at having to wait to know what had happened.

"Can anyone tell me what the hell is going on?" he asked forthrightly.

"It seems your subordinate had some kind of psychotic episode," the doctor explained in a low voice.

Their conversation was interrupted for a moment by the sound of steps and by the typical metal clunk of Alphonse's armor. The armored boy came down the hallway right after Falman, who seemed very worried as well.

"He was all right hours ago. How can he have a psychotic episode?" Mustang asked the doctor, ignoring the confused looks from the newcomers.

"Usually the signs of psychotic illnesses are insidious, but they often go unnoticed for long periods of time."

The doctor excused himself, saying he would come back in a few minutes to talk to them, and left.

"What exactly happened?" Roy asked his subordinates, hoping to get a better answer from them.

"It's hard to say," Hawkeye said, and explained to the colonel what they had all seen, although she couldn't explain what that meant.

"Just like that? Out of the blue?" Mustang asked.

"Totally. He even punched me," Edward complained.

"He didn't punch you. He merely tried to get away from you when you had the brilliant idea of slapping him on the head," Havoc replied irritably.

"There's got to be an explanation for this," Roy insisted.

"I heard the doctors talking about some psychiatric disease," Edward mentioned.

"I also heard them talking about drug abuse, which we all know it's not the case," Hawkeye added.

There was a moment of silence, during which they all tried to think more clearly about the situation, scanning their memories for anything that might be considered a sign of an insidious mental illness.

"You know… It might not mean anything," Havoc started to say, drawing everyone's attention, "but I saw a light like alchemy before I went into the alley."

"Alchemy?"

"Could alchemy cause something like this?" Falman asked.

"I don't know," Alphonse answered by his side, and Edward and Mustang didn't say otherwise. None of them had ever heard about alchemy causing such a thing, but it was probably worth checking.

"Were there any alchemy symbols in the alley?" Falman asked Riza and Jean.

"I didn't see anything," Hawkeye replied, and Havoc only shook his head.

"You were worried about arresting our criminal. You could have overlooked evidence," Mustang said plainly, no disapproval or anything noticeable in his voice.

Hoping to be able to help somehow, Edward sprang away from the wall he had been leaning on and offered to go back to the alley and look for any alchemy symbols. As they all expected, Alphonse quickly offered to join him. Mustang assented, but decided to stay at the hospital with the others. He trusted the Elrics enough to believe that if there was any evidence of alchemy there, they would find it.

The two brothers left, determined to do their best to help.

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**A/N: **Hello everybody! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and that you are curious about what's going on. I've done my best to make it interesting, so I'd appreciate some feedback. Please, don't forget to review! Your computer will not explode if you do, and you'll make a ficwriter very happy! So, thanks again to everybody who has read, alerted and reviewed. See you next Friday!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me. I wonder how the story would have turned out if it did… Poor characters.

I want to say thanks to my beta-reader Ssadropout for your awesome beta-work and for your review!

I also want to say thanks to The Great Butler for your review, and say that your suggestions will surely be used in my next fic.

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**Chapter 3 - The Trap in the Alley**

The sun was already up and announcing another hot day. The dirty alley where the criminal had been arrested hadn't been isolated, but Edward and Alphonse found the scene just like it was when they had arrested their suspect. It was rather unlikely that anyone had been there or that anything in there had been touched in the past couple of hours. The two boys walked in, taking a look around. The walls that surrounded the narrow passage were darkened by rain and exhaust from the cars. Water formed a puddle near a dumpster, and some debris was scattered around the place, mostly bricks, wooden boards and some twisted rusted nails.

"I don't see anything," Alphonse said after a few seconds.

"Sergeant Fuery was standing right there," Edward said, pointing at the wall. "You know Al, this guy wouldn't have had the time to draw something with Fuery running after him."

"Do you think he had drawn something before he was chased?"

"Maybe some sort of trap. We've seen this before. Symbols that activate when someone steps on them," Ed continued, taking a step forward.

Alphonse suddenly grabbed Edward by his shoulder and pulled him back. Due to the absurd strength of his metal body, the armored boy almost caused Ed to trip and fall.

"What?" Edward complained, pretending not to have to make much of an effort to get away from his brother's tight grip.

"If some alchemical symbol really did something to Fuery, you could be affected too."

"Gee… You're right. But I don't see anything," Ed replied, giving his brother's armor a slight punch as a way of saying 'thank you'.

Edward sighed and took another look around the alley. They were so concentrated that they didn't even notice the sound of a window being opened. The splash of water took them by surprise, as some lady emptied a bucket of water through her window.

"Dammit!" Edward yelled, taking a step back as some water and diluted soap soaked his boots.

The boys stared mutely at the big puddle of water that formed in front of them, feeling very frustrated.

"Whatever it was, it must have been washed away by now," Ed groused, finally walking into the alley. He scratched his head, messing up his blond hair a bit, and then violently kicked the nearest wooden board on the ground.

"The wood!" Alphonse yelled by his side and ran past him, grabbing the board that had landed a couple of meters away after being hit by Ed's automail leg.

The younger Elric got the board carefully, turning it around, and Ed caught his breath when he saw the alchemy symbol drawn on it. It had been slightly damaged and wouldn't work anymore, but the brothers didn't know if that damage had been caused by Ed's kick or something else.

"Crap, I could have stepped on that," Ed said.

"You're always so reckless…" Alphonse complained. To him Ed had already mastered the art of being careless and taken it to the next level.

"I'm not reckless! How the hell could I know?" Ed snarled, before turning back to the alchemy symbol and abandoning the usual brother-to-brother repartee.

"Fuery must have stepped on this. He probably damaged it when he did so, or Havoc could have been affected as well."

"Maybe Havoc didn't step on it," Alphonse observed. "The lieutenant is taller than Sergeant Fuery. He might have jumped over all this wood."

"Why is that the short guys always get screwed?" Edward asked in an angry tone, showing more sympathy towards Fuery than he had ever shown.

Alphonse shook his head, thinking that being short was the least of the sergeant's troubles now. Both brothers were unfamiliar with that symbol, so they couldn't tell what kind of reaction it would cause. They had only seen the result, and although they didn't really understand it, they could tell it wasn't good.

"Let's go back and take this to Colonel Mustang," Alphonse suggested.

Edward made a face like he had just been punched on the stomach.

"You wanna bet the bastard won't even say thank you?"

"He usually doesn't."

"He's an idiot."

"He's not _that_ bad, is he? Remember that riot in the West?"

About four months before, when the Elrics had been traveling near the western border, a strike had resulted in a riot, under the influence of a small militia working in the area. The army had sent soldiers who were stationed near the city to take control of the situation and bloodshed seemed unavoidable, considering the officers in command. Ed would surely have been called, but he got a summoning letter to help in the investigation of a murder that might have involved alchemy. In the end, he had been totally useless in the investigation, which was taking place in another city in the other side of the country. Mustang had sent the summons and both brothers couldn't help but think he was simply trying to get them away from the conflict.

"He just doesn't want any trouble," Edward insisted. "We wouldn't have gotten killed, so there was no reason not to send us there."

"And what if you had to kill somebody?"

"Well," Edward said with a dramatic pause that was actually meant to conceal his lack of an immediate response. "Since when does he worry about that?"

"I still think it was too weird…"

Alphonse thought it just wasn't worth arguing. Mustang usually wouldn't explain himself to them. Whenever he scolded the brothers for taking unnecessary risks, he would say he didn't want Edward to get injured or die under his jurisdiction because that would look bad for him. However, Alphonse couldn't help but think that Mustang just wouldn't admit he was worried about them. Lieutenant Colonel Hughes had told them once that Roy acted like that towards most people, but he did care for them. Edward hadn't believed him, but Alphonse was sure Hughes knew what he was talking about. If only the lieutenant colonel were still alive, he might be able to convince Edward that Roy wasn't half the asshole the older Elric thought he was.

They had to go back to the headquarters prison to find Colonel Mustang. Falman had stayed at the hospital to keep them updated about Fuery's condition, but the others needed to go back to work. Mustang and Hawkeye had been interrogating the criminal and came out of the room when Edward and Alphonse arrived. They all entered another room that was empty and sat down so the boys could report their findings.

"It's certainly some kind of trap, yes," Mustang said, turning the piece of wood around. "So the attack was premeditated."

"He made us follow him there," Lieutenant Hawkeye confirmed it.

"But why you and Fuery? Did he pick you out of all the soldiers out there randomly? Could he have a reason to target Fuery?" Roy said almost to himself, not sure what to think yet.

He knew better than making suppositions without evidence. Right now the best thing to do was to consider every possible scenario.

"If he was targeting anyone, maybe Fuery wasn't even the target to begin with. Hawkeye is a faster runner than he is. She almost caught the criminal first," Havoc observed and then turned to Hawkeye. "If you hadn't been hit by that car, y-"

"What car?" Mustang interrupted Jean, looking worriedly at Riza.

"It was nothing," she said immediately, but Roy wasn't so quick to believe her.

"You were hit by a car? Damn it, I send you out there counting on you all coming back in one piece! You have to be more careful!"

Hawkeye nodded in a serious way, thinking that perhaps the fact that she had been tired had caused her to be less alert to what was going on around them. That was the kind of mistake not every soldier lived to make again.

"So, let's say either Hawkeye or Fuery or both of them were targeted. I don't like to think this guy picked someone randomly, although it's a possibility," Roy concluded.

"What's his name?" Alphonse asked.

"We don't know. We've been trying to talk to him, but I'm not sure he can listen to us."

"Maybe he's deaf," Breda suggested.

"He's not. He can hear us; he just doesn't seem able to heed us," Riza explained.

"Give him a punch in the face and he'll listen," Edward said loudly, standing up.

"Yeah, just like Fuery did," Havoc scoffed.

The boy made a weird face then sat down again irritated. Mustang sighed and decided to give it another try, this time with the new evidence of the crime. Maybe if confronted about it, the guy would finally decide to talk.

The blond lad was sitting on his chair and staring blankly at the opposite wall when Mustang walked in alone, carrying the wooden board with the alchemical symbol. However, the mysterious alchemist didn't show any signs of having noticed Roy's presence. Mustang laid the board on the table and sat down, staring at the weird guy for a few minutes, not saying a word. During this time, the lad didn't look at the colonel once. His eyes twitched and he looked in different directions every once in a while, flinching and moving uncomfortably in his chair a few times. Mustang couldn't link any of these reactions to external stimuli, though. The lad seemed to hear sounds nobody else did.

"Is this your drawing?" Mustang finally asked, pushing the wooden board towards the guy.

As the prisoner didn't answer, Roy insisted, asking the same question again in a louder voice. Like before, the man didn't pay attention to him. He seemed to be having some sort of hallucination or some other psychiatric issue Mustang had never bothered to try to understand until now.

"Kid, look at me when I'm talking," Roy said another time, then stood up. The lad wore shabby clothes and a long sleeved shirt made out of cotton. Mustang laid a hand on his shoulder, and felt the material the shirt was made of was quite rough, maybe even itchy.

"No talent!" the guy yelled with a sudden movement, getting away from Mustang and then rubbing his own head painfully. He laid his head on the table, covered it with his arms in a protective manner, and yelled again in a scared voice, "No talent! No talent!"

Roy found himself standing almost a meter away from the guy, although he couldn't remember how he had moved away so fast. The boy had reacted so suddenly Roy himself had almost jumped out of his skin.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, but didn't get any reply. The lad had finally stopped yelling and sat up almost straight, once again, staring absentmindedly at nowhere.

"Did anyone say that to you?" Mustang asked, getting the boy to look at him for the first time.

"No. Not to me."

"To whom?"

The blond lad broke the brief eye contact with Roy and became quiet. The colonel tried to ask him a few more questions, but didn't get any reaction. Cursing and thinking it was useless after all, he ordered Breda to take the guy to a cell and decided to go to the hospital to ask Falman about any news on the sergeant.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … .. . … … … … … … … … … … … … …

The sunbeam that had entered the room disappeared as a cloud crawled its way through the afternoon sky, hiding it. Falman let his head hang to the right a little, almost falling asleep. A low knock on the door almost sent him flying off his chair. Lieutenant Havoc's strong form walked into the room quietly, shooting an uncertain look at the unconscious sergeant, who was lying on his bed, after what the doctors had considered to be a massive amount of sedatives.

"Is he doing any better?"

Falman gesticulated almost hysterically, trying to tell Jean not to make any noise, and then indicated the door. Both men left to the corridor, and the older soldier closed the door after them, leaving Kain alone.

"Whatever you do, do not wake him up," Falman said in a weary voice.

"I assume that's a 'no', right?" Havoc said dismally.

"The doctors didn't sedate him heavily at first. He woke up a little after you all left."

"The boss was going to come, but Hawkeye convinced him he needed to rest, so I came instead. Did Fuery freak out again?"

"He woke up screaming, saying 'shut up!' or 'stop talking!'."

"Headache?" Havoc ventured, hoping they didn't have to make a big deal out of it.

"We all stopped talking, there wasn't a single noise in the room but for him yelling, and he still said the same thing," Falman explained, looking rather disturbed. "I feel bad," he added.

"We all do," Havoc agreed.

"I swear he recognized me for a second."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"He said 'make them stop', but that was all. I think the doctors are right. Maybe he was becoming sick and we didn't notice."

"Edward found an alchemy symbol."

Falman raised his head to look at the lieutenant, not sure whether to be happy or worried at the news. Jean updated him on the investigation, or on the lack of progress in it. So far the only thing they knew was that despite the doctors' theory of a psychotic break, alchemy seemed to have at least played a role on Fuery's condition.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

_The sound of water dripping and hitting the pan repeatedly, drop after drop, made it impossible for him to focus. It was pouring outside and the leaking roof was an annoying distraction. The stern look of the older man by his side wasn't helping him either. Trying hard to remember all the details of the symbol and to draw it correctly, he breathed in slowly and finished his work. It didn't look perfect, but it wasn't bad either. People who didn't know anything about alchemy had said he was very good, especially considering he was only thirteen. However, the man standing next to him knew a lot about alchemy, and this man had never been thrilled by his so called 'good skills'. _

"_Stop," the man's voice cut through the tension that had built up in between those four walls. Lightning struck a tree outside, casting some light into the dim room. He stopped, putting away the chalk._

"_It's all wrong. Didn't you study the books I gave you?"_

"_I did, sir."_

"_And?"_

"_And… That's what I saw there."_

"_Proceed then," the older man said in a hopeless voice._

_There was a light and the wooden block and the nails and screws, all placed in the middle of the circle, twisted and turned, and became one. The external part of a home radio appeared, with buttons and all. The older man got a real radio and put it right next to the one that had just been transmuted._

"_Is this the best you can do?"_

"_It's…difficult when I have to mix different materials," he said, as he noticed the wooden frame was right, but the metal details on the radio were slightly misplaced and some of them seemed about to fall off. _

"_THIS, the best you can do? You have no talent! You don't feel the alchemy, you have to feel it, you have to focus, you have to have it in you!" _

_Those words felt like a hard blow. A punch to the face would feel better than listening to them. _

"_No talent!" the man blasted, grabbing the hardcover book from the table and hitting the boy's head with it, as he kept yelling, "No talent!"_

The alarm clock rang loudly, and Mustang hit it, cursing at the light of the new day invading his room. Why did he have this dream after so many years? He had almost forgotten the many times his master had complained about his initial lack of abilities. Anyhow, he might not have practiced so much and gotten so good in alchemy had his teacher not given him hell for every little mistake he made.

"No talent…" Mustang repeated to himself, as he remembered something that made his stomach drop.

The weird lad they had apprehended the day before had said the same thing. Hell, he had even tried to cover his head, like Mustang was going to hit him or something. At a loss of what to do or think, Roy shook his head and got up, hoping to find something that day. He had ordered soldiers to send a picture of the alchemist they had arrested to every hospital, mental institution, and army facility in the area, hoping somebody might identify the guy. Maybe he would have an answer today, or maybe Fuery's doctor would have some good news. Taking a sip of hot coffee before taking off for work, Colonel Mustang tried not to think of the dream he had had. Some memories of his childhood were annoying to think of, so he generally tried to think of the ones that involved tips he got as a kid helping in the bar, running barefoot in the yard, climbing trees, or talking to Mr. Hawkeye's daughter when Mr. Hawkeye was not around. She was quite shy at the time, but she was someone who didn't criticize him all the time and thus, good company for the moments he wasn't studying.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello everybody! Writing with Ed and Al was fun. I hope you enjoyed this bit and the flashback as well. Also, I'm going to post another oneshot today. Don't forget to take a look! Thanks everybody, for reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting. And please, leave a review with your opinion on this chapter! I have to work on the computer until late tonight, so I'll appreciate having something to be happy about, haha! Have a good weekend everybody!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** No, FMA doesn't belong to me. Not even my soul does. It has been divided in two parts. My boss has one of them and the other half belongs in front of the computer.

I want to say thanks to The Great Butler for your review!

Also, I want to say thanks to my awesome beta-reader, Ssadropout!

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Still a Soldier  
**

The old ceiling fan turned and turned slowly, making a low squeaking noise. Alphonse thought that they had been to some bad hotels before, but this one was definitely on their list of places they wouldn't stay in again. Edward never seemed to care much, though. As long as the place had a roof and a working shower, it was good enough.

Alphonse turned the yellowed page of the alchemy book he was reading and risked a glance at his older brother. Edward was reading a book about human neurology, and it looked like he was fighting the sleepiness to remain awake. They had spent most of the night researching, and now the sun was beginning to shine outside.

"Damn… Why does it have to be so complicated?" Ed muttered to himself, and Al turned back to his own book, an old compilation of alchemy research about human transmutation, dating back to the 1800s. It was one of the forbidden books Edward only had access to because Mustang had authorized him to.

Taking a closer look at the symbol that had supposedly deranged calm and quiet Sergeant Fuery, the boys had realized part of it resembled the symbol used for 'the mind' in human transmutation. Had they not researched human transmutation to try to resurrect their mother, they'd never have recognized the central circle in the symbol their mysterious alchemist had used.

"_Maybe our human transmutation research was good for something after all,_" Edward had said, when both he and Alphonse had studied the symbol and realized it would have some effect on the mind of the person who stepped on it. However, they hoped to have some more information about it before they talked to Mustang again the next day.

When Alphonse looked again at Ed, the long-haired boy was asleep, hardcover book still in his hands. With a tired sigh, he reached out and grabbed the book his older brother had been reading. It easily slipped out of his hands, and Ed mumbled something turning around a little.

It was past noon when Edward woke up, his hair all messed up and pointing in different directions. He found his brother still reading the neurology book, and he could swear that despite Al's armor not allowing facial expressions, the younger Elric seemed quite confused.

"What time is it?" Edward asked in an almost incomprehensible voice Alphonse was already used to.

"Almost two o'clock in the afternoon."

"Did you find anything interesting in that book?"

Alphonse shook his head in reply and closed the book, feeling that his mind needed a rest. Edward stretched his arms, mumbled something else that even his younger brother could not make out then stood up.

"Let's go talk to Mustang. Maybe he's got some news."

They left for Mustang's office in the military headquarters, the sunlight shining right on their faces. Edward groaned and squinted, as the light hurt his eyes. It took Al a few seconds to understand what it was that Edward seemed to find disagreeable on that nice sunny day. His metal body wasn't bothered by extreme temperatures or any environmental changes, but sometimes he wished he could feel the discomfort of simply stepping out in the light after being in a dark room for too long.

They walked quietly to the headquarters, only to find out that Mustang had left one hour earlier.

"They started treating Fuery for schizophrenia," Lieutenant Hawkeye told the Elric brothers, as they pulled themselves a couple of chairs to sit and wait for the colonel.

"Can alchemy cause schizophrenia?" Alphonse asked Edward.

"I don't think so."

"Fuery's mother had schizophrenia," Breda added.

"Really?" Edward turned to the red-haired soldier in surprise. "You could have told us that before."

"We didn't know. Fuery never said much about his family to us. The doctor said he got some medical files from a hospital in Fuery's hometown," Havoc explained.

Dreary silence took over, disrupted by the sound of pen on paper and an occasional turning of pages. Havoc started fiddling with a cigarette as he filled in some details in a long file. He often did that when he felt anxious or irritated. Hawkeye was crosschecking reports from field activities, and Edward kept staring at her simple but neat handwriting, filling out a sheet of paper in high speed.

"Why do you say she 'had' schizophrenia?" Alphonse asked Havoc, breaking the silence another time.

"She died more than ten years ago," the blond man replied, putting the file he had aside and turning to face the armored boy. "Fuery told me once that he still had a father, but I don't think he got along with him."

"I can't imagine Sergeant Fuery not getting along with anybody," Alphonse said in a puzzled tone.

"Neither can I. He's one of the gentlest people on earth, Fuery," Falman said.

"Where's Mustang anyway?" Edward asked no one in particular, looking at the ceiling out of sheer boredom.

"Army's hospital, talking to some shrink who's just examined the guy we arrested yesterday."

Edward shot an impatient look at Alphonse, and without having to say anything, both agreed that they should wait for the colonel to share their findings with everybody. They were both dying to get another alchemist's opinion on the topic. Mustang would probably know what to do next. Another hour went by before Roy arrived, and the Elrics finally had the chance to explain to him what they had concluded.

"The mind…" the colonel repeated Edward's words to himself, giving it some thought.

That day had already been unusual even without the alchemy included. Roy had asked an army psychiatrist to examine their suspect, but the doctor hadn't been able to understand what was going on with the blond man they had arrested. According to him, their unidentified criminal was in a sort of delusional catatonia, with impaired cognitive functions, which would have been the result of chronic mental illness. How a person in that state had managed to use alchemy to transmute hands and even set a trap for somebody, the doctor wasn't able to tell.

"So he's really mental," Breda groused. "Great…"

"He must have been a patient in a mental institution," Roy explained. "The doctor found marks of ECT electrodes on the guy's head."

"What does ECT stand for?" Edward asked with the curiosity that always poked him whenever he heard of something he didn't know about.

"Electroconvulsive Therapy," Mustang replied. "Only mental hospitals use this kind of treatment."

Alphonse shifted uncomfortably behind Edward, not saying anything.

"So, how much do we know so far?" Edward spoke demandingly, taking on an analytical tone of voice.

Mustang raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't complain. Edward was indeed a recalcitrant, and some people criticized Mustang for not trying so hard to put him in his place. However, the colonel believed that considering everything that Edward had been through already, his obstinacy was probably what kept him going. Therefore, Roy just leaned back on his chair and they all went through the information they had one more time.

The guy they had arrested was a mentally ill alchemist and might be the one who had drawn the symbol on the wooden board Ed and Al had found. Fuery had most likely stepped on it before his psychotic break, but whether the alchemy symbol had really caused the psychotic episode or just triggered something that was already there, they didn't know. Although the symbol that had supposedly caused this problem should affect the mind of anyone who activated it, Fuery could have simply inherited a mental illness from his mother.

Reviewing the scarce evidence they had apparently led nowhere. Mustang still had things to do, so he told the Elric brothers to keep thinking about it and grabbed a file. As their superior, one of Mustang's duties was to call families and inform them of any health problems or injuries any of his subordinates suffered. Fuery's file had only one phone number in it to call in case something bad happened. Kain's father. Roy left the room and locked himself in his private office, not looking forward to this conversation. Four or five rings and Mustang straightened himself on the chair, as somebody picked up the phone.

"_Hello,_" a hoarse voice grunted, sounding rather sleepy.

"Mr. Eli Fuery?"

"_Yeah?_"

"This is Colonel Roy Mustang from Central City. I'm calling about your son, Sergeant Kain Fuery."

"_Sergeant? Wait, you're from the army?"_

Mustang spun to the right on his chair, unaware of the frown that contorted his face.

"Are you Eli Fuery?"

"_Yes, but…"_ the voice spoke with uncertainty.

"Is Sergeant Kain Fuery your son?"

"_Yes… that's my son's name_." The man still sounded like he lacked confidence in his own response.

As there was no easy way to deliver the news, Roy preferred to be quick and forthright.

"I'm afraid your son had to be hospitalized yesterday. He has experienced a psychotic episode, and we're still investigating what might have caused it."

"_Wait, s-slow down. Is he all right?_"

Mustang spun his chair back to facing the desk.

"He's been hospitalized for psychiatric care. The doctors weren't able to give a definitive diagnosis yet."

"_His mother had schizophrenia. Could that be it?_" Eli spoke dreadfully, quickly coming to understand the severity of the news.

"The doctors are considering this possibility," Roy replied. He could almost see the old man on the other side of the phone dismally rub his eyes. "He's in the army's hospital, here in Central City. If you wish to come and see him, the army can provide you temporary accommodation."

"_No, no, I appreciate it, but… you don't understand, mister…_"

"Mustang."

"_I haven't seen or spoken to my son in years. He left when he was seventeen, and that was five years ago."_

Knowing no father himself, Mustang couldn't imagine what might have happened. Kain didn't seem like the kind of person prone to challenging the authority of a father and running away just to see the world on his own. At least not without a decent reason. "I'm sorry to hear that," was all he could muster.

"_It's my fault,"_ Eli said. "_Don't take him wrong. I was no father to him and now it's too late to apologize. He doesn't want to see me, and I can't see him like that. Not that Goddamned disease."_

"I understand."

"_Just… do you have a phone number I can call?"_

"I'll give you the hospital's number."

Eli turned his offer down immediately, saying he hated talking to doctors. He asked for the office phone number, but Mustang knew that calling that number directly was not possible. He ended up giving the man the phone number of the headquarters and his full name again, so Eli could call and ask to be redirected to Mustang's office. The man didn't seem likely to be calling him every day anyway.

"When you think you know people well…" Roy muttered, putting the phone back in the receiver. He hated talking to his subordinates' families. He had never had a nice reason to call them. It was always to deliver bad news. But something he would never have expected was that for the last five years or so, Kain's father didn't even know where his son was.

Mustang left the office, not saying anything to anybody. The others knew such a conversation couldn't "go well", so they didn't even ask Roy about it. The colonel went back to work and half an hour later the phone rang, attracting everybody's attention due to the possibility of any news on the sergeant. In fact, that was Fuery's doctor calling.

When Roy walked out of his office after talking to Dr. Feldman, everybody eyed him curiously.

"The doctor said it would be good if one of us could visit Fuery. He's under some strong meds and calmer now," Roy explained.

"Just one?" Breda asked him with disappointment.

Dr. Feldman had said that his patient was probably very embarrassed after the first episode. Thus, it would be good if someone could go and tell him it was okay, and that they understood what he was going through. The problem was that they didn't understand it yet. Schizophrenia was the doctor's explanation for it, but Mustang still hadn't settled for that. And he needed to talk to Fuery and ask him if he had really stepped on the alchemical trap or not.

"Havoc, I think you should talk to him, but you need to ask him about the pursuit," Roy said.

Havoc nodded and said a quick, "Yes, sir!" as he was indeed the one who knew Fuery better. However, he wasn't sure how to ask the things they needed to know and thought that if the situation was hard for Fuery, Mustang should be the one talking to him.

"Me? I'm the freaking boss! He's not gonna talk to me," Roy snapped at the lieutenant's suggestion.

"I think he might," Jean said, leaning back on his chair, not surprised by Roy's short temper. "Tell him he's got to be strong and bounce back. Show some confidence in him and he will tell you whatever you want to know. That much I'm sure of."

Mustang looked uncertainly at Havoc, not able to understand why Jean thought he would be suited for the task. To his surprise, Breda, Falman and even Hawkeye looked at each other and nodded in agreement.

"He's sick, hallucinating probably. How am I going to ask him to be strong and bounce back?" Mustang asked in disbelief.

"You probably haven't noticed, but… he kind of looks up to you," Breda explained.

Edward scoffed at this, but regretted it half a second later, as amber eyes fell on him, followed by the looks of disapproval of Havoc and even Falman. The older Elric coughed and pretended he hadn't laughed at all, but no one said anything about it.

"Well, then there _must_ be something wrong with him," Mustang mumbled sarcastically, to which nobody said a word in response. "I hope you're right about this," he added, standing up and getting his coat.

Colonel Mustang left the office in silence, wondering what he would see when he got to the hospital. He hadn't been present at any of the moments Fuery had freaked out, but he had heard the others describe the events and he really hoped the sergeant wouldn't have another fit.

And as doctor Feldman guided the colonel through the hospital corridors, Roy thought the place wasn't right for Kain. He had read the words PSYCHIATRIC WARD in a sign on the wall and since then, every patient in that part of the hospital had something different in their eyes. There were patients talking to themselves, staring at the walls, or apparently sleeping with their eyes open. Many of them didn't seem lucid enough to even engage in a regular conversation. Mustang just hoped Fuery wouldn't have that same look in his eyes.

And as they walked down the corridors – Mustang trying his best not to stare at any of the patients that cast weird looks at him – Dr. Feldman talked calmly about possible side effects of the medication Fuery was on.

"Most of the patients take a few days to adjust to it. It can make them volatile and even aggressive, although Kain has been okay so far. He hasn't displayed any violent behavior, but please, do try not to upset him or make him nervous, okay?" Feldman said. "If he begins to look nervous, confronts you or does anything untypical, just say good bye and leave."

"I'll keep that in mind," Mustang replied.

"Would you like me to go in there with you?" the doctor asked as they stopped in front of room 556, where Fuery was staying.

Mustang declined the offer, hoping the man would go away and let him speak to Fuery alone. He let out a sigh of relief when the doctor agreed and disappeared down the corridor in a matter of seconds, as though the smooth white stucco walls had swallowed him. Maybe the doctors' white attire was meant for camouflage in the whiteness of the hospital environment.

Alchemy might be involved in Fuery's condition. Roy had mentioned their alchemy theory to Dr. Feldman, but the man had dismissed it as quickly and confidently as Mustang would dismiss the possibility of hell freezing over. Therefore, Roy couldn't have Feldman around to talk to the sergeant. With another long breath, the alchemist opened the door and walked in slowly. It was a little dark in the room, and the sergeant was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling with an expression that suggested that either the medication was working too well, or he was just bored to death.

"Hello, Sergeant," he said unsurely, as Kain sat up on his bed to look at him, getting his glasses from the nightstand.

"Hello."

"Are you feeling better?"

"I guess," Fuery replied, quickly breaking the eye contact by looking down at his own hands on his lap.

Roy sat down on a chair near the barred window of the room, watching Fuery attentively. The lad wasn't looking at him, but he made short jerking movements and shook his head a couple of times, as though he was trying to stop thinking about something. He looked three or four years younger and a lot thinner without the uniform on. The military jacket made the soldiers look a lot more bulky, but Kain was as thin as a high school student. That added to the lack of decent facial hair, Kain would have no trouble blending in with the seventeen year old cadets that joined the military academy every year.

"I'm sorry," Fuery broke the silence in a listless voice.

Mustang pulled his legs back a little, his heels slipping under his chair. He placed his arms on the armrests, feeling slightly annoyed. Sergeant Fuery didn't need to apologize for such a thing. As their superior officer, Roy knew how to be demanding and how to encourage his subordinates in dangerous moments. However, he always had a hard time choosing his words in this kind of situation. Trying to balance between being a commander and being a friend, he replied, "It's all right. None of this is your fault."

"I… just thought I would escape it, you know?" Fuery said, blinking furiously, wincing, and then turning to face the opposite wall.

"Escape what?"

"Schizophrenia. My mother had it."

"I heard. I'm sorry about your mother."

"It's okay. I don't remember so much of her. I was ten when she died," Fuery said with a shrug.

Mustang thought he did seem okay about that part at least. He had no idea what it was like to have someone mentally ill in the family, but he guessed it was pretty bad.

"Listen, Sergeant," Roy said, leaning forward on his chair, elbows now on his knees, chin more or less accommodated on his knuckles. "Had you ever experienced anything like this before you entered that alley, when we arrested our guy?"

"No, never," Fuery took no more than a second to answer.

However sudden it was for him, Fuery hadn't had trouble accepting the diagnosis of schizophrenia. He had grown up knowing that he might have it. But having his commander visit him to talk about his condition gave the situation a painful sense of reality. When Mustang started to explain to him what they had found in the alley, Kain felt confused.

"Maybe all this you're going through is not schizophrenia, but a result of an alchemical reaction," Mustang concluded.

"Is that even possible?" Kain asked, afraid to raise his hopes up for nothing.

"Honestly? I don't know. It's news to me. But we have to check it."

Mustang leaned back on his chair trying not to look like he was scrutinizing Fuery. The lad seemed nervous and very uncomfortable. He had glanced at Mustang a few times, but whenever his eyes met Roy's, he would look away immediately. Roy thought of what Havoc had said. To him it was all a load of BS. How could Kain look up to him? Well, the sergeant had not seen Mustang's work in Ishbal. He had heard all the heroic stories other people told, but had never seen the fire alchemy take a life. Roy thought that maybe he should try following his second lieutenant's advice and see. Havoc called himself not the brightest person on earth, but he wasn't stupid either.

"I know all this has shaken you up quite badly, but I need you to think about it. About the moment you first saw the guy we arrested. Do you think you can give me a full account of everything that happened?" Mustang said, trying to sound demanding but patient at the same time.

The sudden change in Fuery's attitude surprised Roy. The lad had been all depressed and not facing his commander until now, but he straightened himself up, putting his feet down on the floor for the first time, and turning to Mustang with a serious and more alert expression. He was still a soldier after all.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good."

Fuery proceeded with a full report of everything he had done or noticed from the moment they had met the alchemist on the street up to when he had stepped on a wooden board in the alley and a bright light had come from underneath it, making it all start. However, when Mustang asked exactly _what_ had started, Kain apparently felt less confident and backed away a little, pulling his feet up on the bed and staring at the window instead of at the colonel.

"It's… just weird. Voices, places, people…"

"Any of these things bothering you now?" Roy couldn't help but ask. The question seemed to upset Fuery quite a bit, though. He flinched and took some time to answer.

"Mostly other people talking. It's even… difficult to hear you with all the other voices talking at the same time," he said, adjusting his glasses that had slid down his nose. Fuery felt slightly afraid he wouldn't be taken seriously after such a strange statement.

"What are they telling you?" Roy tried to sound casual and not concerned.

"They're not talking to me."

The colonel thought that perhaps Fuery would want to elaborate on that, but the short soldier kept quiet. That sudden rush of confidence and responsibility that had struck him minutes before was all gone by now. He suddenly looked very anxious, which reminded Roy of what Feldman had said about side effects. Thus, Mustang decided not to disturb his subordinate any longer. Fuery probably needed to rest.

"Well, you hang in there for now," Mustang said, standing up from his chair and taking a couple of steps towards Fuery, hoping to shake hands with him before leaving. He hadn't moved too suddenly or done anything that might be considered threatening, but Kain backed away instantly, almost falling off the other side of the bed.

"I'm sorry… I guess…" the colonel said, raising his hands in the air and taking a step back. "Does it bother you when other people come closer?"

"Yes, well… if you can just stay where you are…" Fuery replied nervously.

"Okay, no problem. Just try to rest. If there's anything we can do to help you, we'll find it."

"Thank you."

Roy stopped by the door, holding it open and turning back to Fuery.

"Try to get some rest."

"Okay."

Thankful that the conversation had ended without any screaming or panic fit, Roy left the room, hoping to get back to his office and see if maybe someone had finally identified the man they had arrested.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello everyone! This week has been hard and tomorrow is the worst day of the week at work. Thus, reviews will be deeply appreciated! Let me know what you think of the story so far. Thanks for reading and see you next week!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** You all know already, but let's go again… I don't own FMA.

I want to say thank you to Oedipus Tex, Leah and The Great Butler for your reviews!

I also want to say thank you to my awesome beta-reader, Ssadropout!

* * *

**Chapter 5 – Strange Talks**

Lieutenant Hawkeye tried to ignore Edward's constant tapping on the desk by her side, but it was becoming difficult already. Edward was just a teenager and therefore as patient and quiet as a mouse running from a cat, she tried to tell herself, focusing on the report she had. Fortunately for her, Colonel Mustang soon walked into the office, which made Edward abandon the annoying drumming and turn to look at Roy, as did everybody else in the room.

"How did it go?" Breda asked.

"Surprisingly well."

"Did he step on the trap?" Alphonse asked this time.

"He did. And he said light came from underneath the board and only then did the so-called psychotic episode start," Mustang explained.

This meant the supposed schizophrenia might be the result of an alchemical reaction, and thus, reversible. Havoc let out a loud sigh of relief, saying that with three talented alchemists around they would certainly find a way to help Fuery. Breda, Falman and Hawkeye smiled at the second lieutenant's reaction, but they couldn't get carried away now. They still didn't know much about what exactly had caused Fuery's psychotic break.

"A man called you before," Lieutenant Hawkeye told the colonel once he sat down. "He left a name and a phone number, but didn't want to say what it was about."

Roy got the piece of paper where Riza had jotted down 'Robert Padget' and a number that seemed to be from another city. He called it and suppressed a smile as he heard a girl, probably a secretary, say, "_Doctor Padget's office, how may I help you?_"

A doctor calling from out of town might be someone who could identify the man they had arrested. Mustang's supposition turned out to be true when Doctor Padget came to the phone, introducing himself as their suspect's psychiatrist.

"_His name is Andrew Wright. He suffered from severe schizophrenia as a child. We started treating him as an outpatient because he was doing much better, but that was before he disappeared from our town, about a year ago. I assumed he was dead, because he had never been prone to running away_."

Roy informed Doctor Padget about the case, leaving out only the part about Fuery. The hypothesis of alchemy being involved in the matter was indeed just a hypothesis, and until they found more evidence that supported their theory, sharing it was not exactly wise.

"_He's not talking, huh? It's not that he can't listen to you. He just won't if he doesn't want to. He definitely knows how to shut himself off the world,_" Padget explained. "_Try talking to him in a different way._"

Havoc flicked his lighter just to watch the dancing flame, as the others tried to go back to work. Mustang was on the phone for a while, taking notes of the doctor's recommendations for interrogating that specific patient.

Roy asked Padget for a copy of Andrew's medical file and promised he would have Andrew transferred back to his own town as soon as the investigation was concluded. That said, Mustang hung up and got the piece of paper where he had written down Padget's instructions, reading them again. They sounded odd, but considering how lost they were with the case, odd recommendations were better than nothing.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ...

"Do you think this is gonna work?" Jean asked Breda, when they took Andrew to the interrogation room again, about half an hour later.

The lad didn't object as they guided him to the office without touching him. Breda walked ahead and Andrew followed. Havoc walked a couple of feet behind them, just to be sure Andrew wouldn't try to run. Dr. Padget had been very emphatic on _not touching _the patient. Apparently, any kind of contact with other people disturbed Andrew deeply.

"Might work," Breda replied, stopping by the door of the room and asking Andrew to walk in.

It was almost as dark in the office as it was outside, but Andrew could find his way to a chair. Mustang had gotten himself a chair in the other side of the room, not facing Andrew directly. Padget had told the colonel that the lad was more cooperative if he had fewer stimuli to distract him from the conversation. Whatever the reason for that, dim light, no noise and no more than one person talking to him was easier for him to cope with.

"Is your name Andrew Wright?" Mustang's loud but calm voice resonated in the empty room. Padget had instructed him to speak loudly too.

"Yes, sir," the voice came almost in a whisper.

"Do you know how to use alchemy?"

"Yes," Andrew mumbled.

"I'm just trying to understand, kid. Did you transmute those hands on the street?"

"Yes."

Although the fact that Andrew was finally talking could be considered a big improvement, Mustang thought that the 'yes' answer was coming too easily.

"Are you a registered alchemist?" he asked.

"No."

At least Andrew was indeed listening.

"Did you draw the transmutation circle my subordinate stepped on when you were arrested?"

This time there was no answer. Mustang was now certain that Andrew could hear him, but probably didn't want to answer.

"The circle was your work, wasn't it? It's rather brilliant," Mustang disguised his question as a compliment.

"I heard of Ishbal before," Andrew started saying. "The guy in the room next to mine, in the hospital… read about it on the news. He told me."

Mustang didn't know why the lad had changed the topic, but thought that he shouldn't push him. If he could lead Andrew into talking about the symbol, even if it took some time, they might finally have an answer for this mystery. If he wanted answers, he'd have to be patient. The hardest part however, was that it was already late, and Mustang hadn't gotten much sleep in the last few days. The colonel was about to blow a fuse, but he knew that if he pushed Andrew, he would never get any answer.

"But I hadn't seen it till now. It's awful. All the blood stains on the sand," Andrew continued after a short pause.

Wright had started speaking like he was in some kind of trance, inebriated maybe. Doctor Padget had said that even eye contact upset Andrew. Despite knowing he wasn't supposed to stare at the lad, at that moment Roy found it impossible to follow this recommendation. Luckily Andrew wasn't looking at him and didn't notice Roy's piercing gaze.

"What is awful?" the colonel asked.

"The Ishbal war."

"Do you know anything about it?"

It was a useless question, but if it kept Andrew talking, Mustang didn't mind. He feared Andrew would shut himself away in his own mind again at any moment.

"The lady was there too," Andrew went on.

"What lady?"

"The blonde. She had short hair back then. And your friend, the one who died in the phone booth. He said that you'd have to be the Fuhrer to make a real difference."

Roy found himself staring directly at Andrew again. The kid had to be stalking them or something, he thought. That would be impossible, though. Knowing about Hughes? Apart from Roy himself, Hughes had been the only one to know of this conversation they'd had during the war. Andrew couldn't have been there in Ishbal.

"How do you know that?"

"I saw them there."

"How old are you?" Roy asked, even though the idea of Andrew being in Ishbal was preposterous.

"Nineteen. I wasn't there. I just saw them."

"A photograph?"

"No. Through your eyes."

"Care to explain?" Mustang said after a couple of seconds, trying hard not to grab the kid by his shirt.

"I need help," Andrew said instead, suddenly turning and facing Roy in the dingy interrogation room. His expression turned into a wince, but he kept the eye contact. "I want this to end."

"Why do you think we can help you?" Roy asked, although this wasn't making much sense, and he still wanted to know how the hell Andrew knew about Hawkeye and Hughes.

"It's hard to explain. You have to understand," Andrew started talking louder and faster. He was getting more nervous and agitated, his face twitching and his muscles making jerking movements, like he was about to jump and seek protection from a bombardment.

"Okay, take it e-"

"Talk to the man with the glasses," Andrew said between clenched teeth, bending forward, letting his forehead press against his knees.

"Hughes? He's dead!" Roy yelled as Andrew disappeared behind the table.

"The short guy, the sergeant, for God's sake… Ask him what he sees."

Andrew rolled off the chair, falling on the floor. Roy stood up still as far from the boy as the room allowed him to be. There was then a loud bang and another, and Roy understood that this was the sound of Andrew banging his head against the floor.

"Andrew, stand up! Stop doing that, damn it!" he ordered, unsure whether to keep away as Padget had told him to, or to follow his instincts and pull the kid up from the floor. He didn't have to do anything because the boy stopped immediately, apparently unharmed.

"Sorry. I've been out of medication for a few days."

Andrew got back on his feet, but didn't look good at all. He was sweating and trembling and looked like he was about to collapse at any moment. Again he had turned to face the walls, not looking at the colonel.

Mustang decided that keeping Andrew in a cell for the investigation was becoming too close to torture and ordered Hawkeye to call the army's hospital. Maybe after being medicated, Andrew might be able to talk more clearly. He would have to, after all the crazy things he had said. Roy couldn't even imagine where he had gotten all that from.

"What did he tell you?" Riza asked Roy once Andrew was already on his way to the hospital, full of sedatives and comfortably sleeping.

"Not what I wanted to hear. I need to talk to Fuery again."

"Sir, it's almost eleven o'clock, he must be asleep," the lieutenant said.

"I'll talk to the doctors, say it's urgent. You talk to Andrew again when you get the chance. I want to see if the same thing happens with you."

"What happened?" Hawkeye asked, but it was in vain, because Mustang had already walked out the door, determined to talk to Kain no matter what.

The mind. The symbol was supposed to affect the mind. In what way? Roy was beginning to formulate the most awkward alchemy theory inside his head. He just needed to know if there was any chance that it was true.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … ...

"I don't understand what you want me to do," Fuery said nervously, sitting up on his bed again, hair totally messed up, glasses on the nightstand and far from his immediate reach. As a patient he wasn't supposed to have visitors this late at night, but Mustang had come anyway, waking him up and insisting on not turning on the lights. The only light in the room came from outside through the open window, but Fuery could more or less distinguish Roy, who had dragged a chair to the opposite corner and sat there.

"What do you see, Sergeant?" Roy asked in a louder voice, following the same recommendations that Dr. Padget had made for interrogating Andrew.

"Nothing… It's too dark and I don't have my glasses," Fuery replied, confused by all that. Maybe he could call the nurse; she would have no problem hauling Colonel Mustang out of the room.

Mustang inhaled deeply, trying to rearrange his thoughts. Should he tell Fuery what he had in mind or just try to get the answer he needed? As the sergeant already seemed to be frightened enough by all this commotion, he decided for the latter. The sooner Roy could go and leave him alone the better. The sergeant seemed to have grown very agitated due to Mustang's sudden entrance and weird behavior and he was taking medication that might make him edgy very quickly.

"Not what I mean. Okay, sorry. Take your time. Just tell me what you hear then. What do the voices tell you?"

"Voices?"

"You said you hear voices. What do they tell you?" Mustang asked the same question again.

Kain felt the first burst of fear quickly turning into annoyance. Right now he wished he could just tell his commander to stop saying nonsense and let him go back to sleep. He tried to breathe slowly and stay in control of his own emotions. That had to be the medication acting. In spite of making him sleepy and calm throughout most of the day, there were still moments when his anxiety peaked.

"With all due respect sir, if you keep asking people weird questions like that, you'll end up in a room like this," he said, despite knowing there wasn't much respect in such a comment.

Roy was slightly surprised at the sergeant's rude answer, but knew he should have expected something like that. He studied Fuery in the dark, trying to analyze how much more he could push his sergeant without running the risk of disturbing the lad more.

"Ignore the weirdness in the question, just answer it," Mustang finally insisted, not very successful at concealing his slight annoyance.

A nurse opened the door, asking the two men if everything was all right. Fuery considered saying that it wasn't and that he wanted Roy to go, but Mustang told the woman that they were just talking and so she left. Kain refrained from calling her and making a scene, only because he thought Mustang would be furious if security got involved.

"Sergeant, please listen to me. I need you to answer the question, however strange it is."

"I still don't understand what you want to know."

"The voices you hear, the ones other people don't. You see things too? Places, people? Like you said."

"Yes, but nothing of this is real. It's all in my head, it doesn't mean anything."

"Okay, it doesn't. I know," Roy tried to keep a calm tone of voice so Fuery would calm down as well. "Can you share it anyway?"

"It keeps changing all the time," Fuery said disconcertedly.

"What do you see now?"

"Nothing. I just hear voices now."

"What do they say?"

Fuery felt very embarrassed about the whole situation and had no interest in talking about all the strange things that he could hear. His mind had come up with lots of things that didn't make any sense. Why Mustang would like to know about what he could hear, the sergeant had no idea.

"Why are you interested?"

"Fuery, do you trust me?"

"Yes, but…"

"Then tell me."

Fuery pursed his lips, looking utterly frustrated. By the look on his face, Roy wouldn't be surprised if his subordinate told him to drop dead right there.

"Still… a nameless sniper. It's become quite a topic among us," Kain finally said, like he was repeating someone else's words.

Mustang brought a hand to his own face and rubbed his eyes, feeling like a brick had just hit him on the head. Fuery kept talking and reeled off a whole dialogue, emotionlessly but for a bit of anxiety hidden in his voice. Kain just repeated what he heard. Out of a context, the dialogue didn't mean much to him. Roy however, knew these words. Someone had said them before.

"Do you know the people speaking these words?" Roy interrupted Fuery.

"I recognize Lieutenant Colonel Hughes' voice. And yours, too. There are other voices I'm not familiar with."

"Fuery, you just quoted every single word from a conversation I had with Hughes years ago."

Kain considered getting his glasses, but gave up on the matter as it was too dark in there for him to easily find his glasses without dropping anything, or even for them to make a difference.

"I'm hallucinating again, aren't I? Hell," he said, his exasperation surfacing again.

"No, Sergeant, I'm right here and I'm real. But none of this makes any sense at all."

Sergeant Fuery felt completely puzzled by now. Was Mustang trying to make sense of his hallucinations?

"You probably want to go back to sleep," Roy said, standing up. "Thank you for talking to me."

"What does all this mean, then?" Fuery asked.

Roy straightened his jacket, not looking at the sergeant. He didn't know yet, so he didn't want to explain himself to Fuery. Friendship aside, it was time to be the commander and do what he believed to be best.

"I'll explain it when I know what we're dealing with."

"Great… Wake me up in the middle of the night, but don't explain anything," the young soldier said sarcastically.

"As I said, Sergeant, I will explain it when I can. You should rest now."

"I _was_ resting."

Mustang sighed, not used to this kind of insubordination from anyone other than Edward. Well, maybe he should have waited until the next morning to talk to him. It was probably his fault anyway.

"If you want to say anything offensive, now's the time. Blame it on the meds. I won't be accepting insults once you get used to them."

"Just leave. Please."

"I'm sorry for waking you up. Have a good night, Sergeant."

No reply followed and Roy wished Fuery had actually cursed at him or something. He closed the door and wondered if Edward and Alphonse would still be in the headquarters. They were probably gone by now. Maybe he should sleep on the matter and think of a way to tell his theory to the Elric brothers the next day.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm a bit worried with this chapter since the sergeant was purposely out of character. I hope it was an interesting chapter for everyone. I want to say thanks to everybody who's reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting; and once again I ask you, please leave a review with your opinion. See you next Friday!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** It hurts to say that, but no, FMA doesn't belong to me. Actually, even my brain hurts today. Overtime sucks…

I want to say thanks to The Great Butler, Flower in the River and Invasion of the Cats for your reviews!

I also want to say thank you to my awesome beta-reader, Ssadropout!

* * *

**Chapter 6- A Cold-Blooded Killer  
**

Andrew leaned forward and stared at his own feet like he was in a different world, a world in which no one could reach him. Two nights of decent sleep plus the medication made things a lot easier for him, but he still wouldn't talk unless he wanted to.

"Do you know what this symbol does?" Hawkeye insisted on the question, shooting an occasional glance at the lad, but not making any eye contact with him. Mustang had told her how to talk to Andrew, and she had to admit the instructions were strange, but if they might work, she had to try.

A photograph of an alchemy symbol drawn on a wooden board was lying on the hospital bed next to Andrew, but he hadn't even bothered to look at it. Hawkeye assumed it was because he had indeed drawn it and knew what it was. The trap Fuery had stepped on.

Andrew kept quiet about that matter and the lieutenant brushed her hair away from her face, her frustration building up. It was a quarter past ten, and she had been there since nine-thirty in the morning. If only Mustang had told her what he wanted to know, but he had simply told her to go to the hospital and talk to Andrew as soon as the doctors allowed her to do so. The boy did answer some of her questions, but he was ignoring most of them.

"How did you learn alchemy?"

Again, there was no answer, so she decided to ask a new question.

"Did you have any reason to hurt the sergeant?"

This time Andrew moved a little in his bed, looking to the side as though thinking about something unpleasant.

"Nothing personal," he said, almost apologetically.

Hawkeye frowned at that answer then tried to keep calm. Nothing personal and yet, Fuery had to go through this hell for what? She tried to push away the image of the sergeant screaming while doctors tried to sedate him, and focused on the interrogation.

"Then why did you do it?" she asked, sounding obviously irritated. That man there had just admitted having done something vile to Fuery. Hawkeye didn't have many relatives, so she considered the people she worked with sort of like family. What had happened to the sergeant had shaken all of them, and she didn't feel any differently.

"I need help."

"Couldn't you have _asked_ for help?"

"No."

"Why not? And what do you need help with?" Hawkeye kept an impatient tone.

"I can't explain that," Andrew mumbled, feeling angry. He knew the look in the lieutenant's eyes too well. She thought he was just crazy. He hated that. He hated how other people stared at him when they thought he was nothing but a lunatic.

"Try," she insisted.

"I _can't._"

Hawkeye saw Andrew suddenly flinch and turn to look at the door. It was closed and the lieutenant hadn't heard any noise, so she ignored Andrew's sudden interest in the door and carried on with her interrogation. Mustang seemed to think talking to Andrew was important, although she herself still had doubts about it, since the lad didn't want to cooperate.

Andrew smirked for a moment, but that went unnoticed. He knew that Colonel Mustang had been intrigued; maybe the soldier already had an idea of what was going on. And now Mustang was standing on the other side of the door, listening to the interrogation, just what Andrew needed. Lieutenant Hawkeye didn't know of her superior's presence there, but Andrew wouldn't expect her to. She couldn't know Mustang was there as he hadn't made any noise. But Andrew knew.

"Can I ask you something?" Andrew said, to which Hawkeye replied with a slightly annoyed, "Yes."

"Weren't you interested in learning alchemy from your father?"

Roy stopped at the door, his right hand gently holding the doorknob, but not pushing it. Was Andrew going to say something weird to Hawkeye too? If he walked in right now, he would interrupt the conversation and Andrew might stop talking.

"Did anyone tell you about my father?" Hawkeye asked, somewhat surprised.

"No, nobody said anything. I'm just trying to understand why you became a soldier after he died. Or why you work with that alchemist, considering he disgraced your father by using his alchemy to kill so many in a useless war like Ishbal," Wright said with casual interest, not showing any signs of how pleased he was. Mustang was listening, and although Andrew had nothing against the Flame Alchemist, he already disliked Hawkeye. She wasn't willing to believe what he said, and he figured he could hurt her by making things difficult between Riza and her boss.

Hawkeye found herself speechless at Wright's observation, delivered in that blunt cold way. Outside the room, Mustang let go of the doorknob, not sure if he felt confused or just hurt.

"Who said that? The colonel didn't, I'm sure of that," Riza said, now staring right at the boy, demanding an answer no matter what. That was serious. She couldn't imagine where he had gotten that from.

"You can't blame yourself forever, Lieutenant," Andrew kept talking coldly. "You couldn't know he'd use your father's alchemy to commit mass murder. You regretted showing him that symbol you have tattooed on your back. You regretted it bad, I see. But you couldn't know the lad you knew would turn into a cold-blooded killer. "

"Answer my questions or stop talking," Riza interrupted him hastily. "Who told you that?"

Hawkeye's tone was undoubtedly angry now.

"Nobody told me. I saw it all. Through your eyes."

They both heard the fading sound of hurried steps, but Hawkeye didn't pay attention to it. Mustang was already far, in a different corridor. Hell, he should have just walked inside right away. Why linger in front of the door, listening to their conversation? He now had confirmation for his hypothesis, but not in the way he wanted. _Definitely_ not the way he wanted. Maybe he should just wait in the headquarters, and pretend he hadn't been at the hospital. He just didn't want to talk to Hawkeye right now. She would have to meet him in his office later to report anyway.

He had been called a killer or a murderer before, but to know that's how Riza saw him… Of all people, he had thought she understood him well, but apparently, she didn't. Or maybe Roy was the one trying to fool himself. He _was_ a killer after all.

Not much longer after Mustang had left, a nurse asked Hawkeye to finish her interrogation because Andrew was a patient and thus needed his rest. Feeling bewildered, the lieutenant drove back to the headquarters like Roy knew she would do. Their investigation had hit a brick wall in the last two days, but Roy apparently wasn't telling her all he knew. He had said he wanted to see if 'the same thing' happened with her. What was he talking about? Had Andrew told Mustang something strange too? Riza had never thought of the colonel as some psycho like Andrew had described him, but other people had. Andrew could have heard that from anyone in the army. But Wright couldn't have known about the alchemy symbol on her back. She had indeed regretted showing it to Roy. Not for the reasons Andrew thought she had, but she had regretted it. Bad. Like the lad had said. How could he possibly know of it?

When she walked into Mustang's office, everyone was there, working on some weapon and equipment inspection reports, or pretty much doing nothing. Edward and Alphonse had joined the group, despite not knowing what to do or think, as Roy had told them to wait and hadn't said anything else. The colonel seemed edgy, but different from the "usual edgy", which made both brothers understand there would be no room for complaints.

"How did it go?" Roy asked Riza, not raising his eyes from the document he was reading to look at her.

"There must be someone else involved in this. He said some things I have no idea how he knows about or why he would say them."

"Have a seat," Mustang ordered. "I've been thinking about this symbol. I think someone else used it on Andrew and then used the kid as bait to repeat the feat. That's when Sergeant Fuery ended up in hospital."

"Ok, but why make people sick?" Edward asked.

"Not sick."

Roy grabbed the photograph of the symbol again, showing it to Ed and Al. There was a big circle in the middle, connected to smaller circles around it. Ed and Al had said the bigger circle represented the mind.

"What if these small circles represent the same thing?" Roy asked, with something like a mad scientist spark in his eyes flashing for a second.

"The mind again? But why represent the mind more than once in one symbol?" Al asked.

Everyone listened attentively as Roy described the conversation he'd had with Fuery, in which the sergeant had quoted another conversation that had taken place years before.

"Andrew also said things that I had thought no one besides me knew. I don't see how he could know them," Roy explained.

"Are you saying this symbol connects the mind of the person who steps on it to the minds of other people? Like a mind reader?" Edward finally caught the hint.

"Something like that, yes."

"Well, this is nine kinds of crazy!" Havoc said.

"Why would anyone do this?" the younger Elric asked.

"To steal information?" Breda risked.

"I don't know. It's all too weird."

"But why expose the plan by letting Andrew Wright free on the street?" Hawkeye asked. "And he said he needed help, but didn't want to say what was wrong."

"He said the same thing to me. Something doesn't fit."

"If anyone else was behind this, Andrew would be a fugitive. There's only one guard posted at the hospital," Havoc observed.

"In that case, someone would have either taken him away or killed him," Falman said.

"And why use only schizophrenic people for this?" Breda asked this time.

"I don't think Andrew is schizophrenic. Sergeant Fuery isn't either. None of us ever noticed anything weird about him, no matter what the doctors are saying. I think they were both misdiagnosed," Roy said confidently.

There was a loud knock on the door, and everyone tried to look calm and busy with work before a soldier trod in, carrying an envelope.

"Colonel Mustang, this has just arrived for you. They said it was urgent."

"Did this come through army mail?"

"Yes, sir."

With a salute, the young soldier left, and the colonel turned the envelope around to see the sender's name.

"It must be Andrew Wright's medical file. Dr. Padget had said he would send it as soon as possible. He must know somebody in the army," Roy explained, opening the thick envelope and pulling a stack of paper from it. He went through the first page thoroughly, evidently interested in it.

The medical file described not only Andrew Wright's disease and course of treatment, but also his history before being hospitalized.

"Andrew lost his parents in some accident when he was still a child. He went to live with his uncle, Wesley Wright. The guy was a military psychiatrist and alchemist. Andrew must have learned alchemy from him," Mustang continued, still reading the doctors' notes.

"State alchemist?" Ed inquired.

"No, just a regular alchemist. It seems he raised Andrew, but got arrested for beating up the kid and…" Roy paused, finishing the paragraph he had started, "using him in alchemy experiments."

"Crap, that's just sick," Havoc said with disgust.

"That was years ago, when they had Andrew first hospitalized."

"He was used in alchemy experiments?"

"That's what it says here," Mustang confirmed, putting the file down for a moment. Alchemy was supposed to help people, not to make innocent children suffer.

As terrible as it sounded, the news meant another lead to follow. Andrew himself was a part of the puzzle, and there had to be a file about the crime investigation in the army library somewhere. Roy ordered Breda to go get it, and nobody said much until the red-headed soldier came back, a dusty box of evidence under his arm. Edward, already too curious to wait, stood by Mustang's side, looking over his shoulder at what was in the box and in the reports.

"Crap."

"What?" the others asked.

"It's the same symbol, isn't it?" Edward asked, pointing at a photograph Mustang had gotten from a yellowed folder.

"Yes."

Wesley's house had been searched right after he got arrested, and the officers had found lots of research on human transmutation and a big symbol on the basement floor. Wesley had testified that he was doing research to fix his nephew's mental problem, which had been supposedly caused by alchemy. The symbol on the floor had been photographed, and now Mustang and Edward compared it to the one drawn by Andrew on that wooden board. They were a perfect match.

"Why didn't they try to figure out a cure for Andrew?" Alphonse asked. "Wesley was trying to help."

"The bastard was accused of experimenting on the kid and making him sick. But the doctor's testimony says that the experiments performed could not have caused Andrew's disease. This is a mess. The military police said one thing, the doctors said another, and in the end Wesley got a truck-load of charges. Someone had to be wrong in this story," Roy said, raising his eyes from the reports to look at his men. "Fuery apparently got the same symptoms Andrew has. We'll talk to the sergeant and explain what we think is going on. Then we can confirm it with his help and see exactly how this mind reading thing works."

"I don't think Fuery's gonna like it," Breda said.

"Once he understands what's happening, I'm pretty sure he'll manage. Fuery said he heard voices and saw things that weren't real. That probably didn't make any sense to him and he panicked. That must be why he had that first episode," Roy pondered. It was understandable, of course.

"Now that you said it, he did seem like he was seeing things. And it got worse when we got closer to him," Edward said.

"Considering all this, do you think it's still possible that somebody else is involved in this?" Falman asked.

"Andrew said he wanted this to end," Roy said, thinking about it. The answer was probably simple after all. "Maybe he wants us to find a cure for it and that's why he used it on somebody else. To prove alchemy really caused it."

At least a mind-reading conspiracy didn't seem likely now. Andrew had gotten his abilities from some alchemy experiment and now had done the same to Fuery to convince somebody to help him. That had to be it.

Roy continued examining the files, and it didn't take a genius to see the investigation had been too quick and the trial had been biased. Irritated, Roy shoved everything back in the box, saying he would visit Wesley in jail and make him explain how the symbol worked. There should have been an alchemist working on that case, but back then almost all alchemists the army had were in Ishbal.

Telling Hawkeye to go over all the files and evidence more thoroughly than he had, Roy left on his own. Paperwork was already piling up in the office, so Breda, Falman and Havoc had to stay and dedicate their time to it. Meanwhile, Edward and Alphonse, now studying the symbol from another angle, decided to search the books another time and maybe learn something new.

Wesley Wright had been taken to one of the jails on the outskirts of Central, since the town where the case had happened was small and close to the capital. This facilitated things for Mustang. One of his subordinates was stuck in hospital, labeled as 'crazy' thanks to that symbol, so Roy didn't want to waste time. But the information on Wesley Wright only led him to a dead end.

"He passed away two months ago. Cancer."

Sergeant Bentham, the soldier responsible for the dayshift at the prison, didn't seem to be upset about the news. He had white hair that didn't allow him to lie about his age and an expressionless look in his eyes. Mustang thought he had been doing that job for too long.

"Damn it."

In the hurry to find out something new soon, the colonel hadn't called the officer in charge of the prison before showing up. Now he was stuck there with Bentham, who didn't seem exactly interested in helping him.

"Did he have any personal belongings? A notebook or a diary?" Roy inquired.

"I'll check it for you."

Roy followed the man down a corridor, walking in between cells. Through the barred windows on the doors of each cell, he could see the inmates, who stared quietly at him.

"Psst. Psssst!"

Mustang barely turned his face to look to the side. A hand emerged from one of the windows, holding what seemed to be a letter and waving it in the air hysterically. Sergeant Bentham, who was far ahead, had just rounded the corner.

"Can you give it to my wife? It's just a letter," a hoarse voice spoke and then green tired eyes fell on Mustang in a pleading expression.

"Send it through regular mail," Roy said dismissively.

"They won't send my letters. I called old Bentham an asshole once, now he keeps my letters. He might be wiping his butt with them for all I know. Please, I'll write down the address. Take it to her."

The man pulled his hand inside again, and Mustang could hear the sound of a pencil scribbling on paper. A few seconds later, the same hand popped out through the window, envelope well secured in it. The guy might be trying to get some dangerous information out of the prison without the guards looking at it, or he might be telling the truth. Knowing prisoners' wellbeing wasn't exactly a state priority, Mustang got the piece of paper, hoping to take a look at it later.

"Who's bothering you?" Bentham asked, coming back to the corridor.

"It's okay, Sergeant."

Okay or not, Bentham walked down to the cell door and kicked it, making hell of a noise.

"Quit talking, you bloody bastard. Quit breathing if possible, will ya?" he barked, shaking a thin hand in the air.

"That's not necessary, Sergeant Bentham," Mustang said.

"I'm sorry for this, Colonel. Brigadier General Prescott's rules are strict, but still these air sucking freaks insist on misbehaving."

_That's right._ Mustang had heard of Prescott. The man had made law enforcement his goal in life, and rumors said he ran that prison with an iron fist. On second thought, it seemed more likely that the prisoner hadn't lied. Mustang shoved the letter in his pocket and didn't mention it to the sergeant. He could easily have someone deliver it if it was really just a personal letter. And if that was the case, he could order an investigation on Bentham.

"These are _people_ you're talking about," he told the soldier.

"Yes, Sir," Bentham replied, too quickly to sound convincing. He had gotten that damned job in the prison eleven years ago and couldn't get a promotion. After all this time, prisoners to him were as deserving of his consideration as were the cockroaches that infested his garage.

Not saying anything else, both men left, Mustang following Bentham, so they could see if Wesley Wright had left anything behind. However, nothing had been packed. Not even a watch or clothes, or a single photograph. If Wesley kept any personal objects, the guards had probably thrown them away.

* * *

**A/N:** Yay! Trouble! I love trouble! I hope you love it too and leave me a review with your opinion about the chapter. Thanks a lot to everyone for reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting! See you next week!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **No, I don't own anything. Even my sanity has abandoned me…

I want to say thanks to Oedipus Tex and The Great Butler for your reviews.

I also want to say thank you to my great beta-reader, Ssadropout!

* * *

**Chapter 7 - Memories They Can't Forget  
**

"I see a fi… well actually I _am_ _running_ in a field. There's a big dog running after me."

"Man, I was scared as hell," Havoc spoke out loud with a laugh. "I thought that dog was gonna eat me alive!"

Fuery smiled briefly as Jean slapped his own knee with his huge hand, still laughing. After spending a day visiting the sergeant in the hospital and checking if the same thing happened with everybody, they had finally been able to confirm Roy's theory. Kain had described a hunting accident in which one of Falman's friends had gotten shot more than 20 years ago. Breda had been quite surprised as the sergeant had described some argument Heyman's parents had had when the red-haired soldier was about twelve. Kain had also seen Hawkeye's father and described him in details, which made Riza sure he couldn't be just guessing.

The fact was that Fuery couldn't read what people were thinking at the moment, but all the voices he heard and the weird things he saw were simply memories of people who were near him at the moment. The closer they got, the more vivid the hallucinations became. And the more people around, the crazier it got. Somehow, now that he was learning how to cope with it, the sergeant could tell what was real from what wasn't, but still it was complicated when too many people were around.

"How old were you?" Fuery asked out of curiosity, still trying to get used to the idea that he was breaking into his friend's head, although not deliberately.

"I was thirteen."

"You were taller than me already…" Fuery observed, making Havoc laugh again.

"I knew this was nine kinds of crazy. I mean, you actually see things the way I saw them years ago."

"Just a few. I can't control it, but mostly I see bad stuff," Fuery explained.

"Do you want to stop?"

"If you don't mind."

Havoc pulled his chair back two or three feet and asked Kain if the images had disappeared. Fuery nodded, happy that at least he only had visual hallucinations with other people's memories when they were less than about four or five feet away from him. More than four or five feet and all he could pick from the memories of other people was sound. Auditory hallucinations.

"It's just voices now."

"You hear them all the time, don't you?" Havoc asked, his expression turning serious again.

"Yes, I pick up voices of the memories from the staff and other patients," Kain confirmed, not looking into Havoc's eyes. The eye contact made the hallucinations more vivid, scary even.

"It's still hard to believe all the stuff I see and hear is real," he continued. "Or was. To somebody, I mean. The first time Mustang was here most of what I could see was Ishbal."

Fuery's features turned somber before he added, "Over and over. I could even feel the smell of… burnt bodies."

Havoc pursed his lips, trying to deduce from the expression on his friend's face if actually seeing the war through Mustang's eyes had changed Kain's opinion of the colonel.

"Damn it, man. Don't judge him because of those memories. You know this crap probably still keeps him up at night."

"I guess."

Fuery had never fought in any combat similar to the Ishbal war, and now he had seen it from one of the rawest perspectives possible. Mustang's. The Flame Alchemist. Havoc didn't think this was something simple to deal with, especially because it involved somebody the sergeant admired.

"Can you sleep with all the noise?" Jean asked, hoping to change the topic.

"I can sleep, more or less. I wish they would discharge me from this hospital. There's always people walking in and out of the room," Kain replied.

"Hawkeye is taking care of that. Now that we know what's happening better than the doctors do, you'll be better off away from this place."

"It's useless, they said I'd have to stay with a relative, but there's none here in Central," Fuery said, to which Havoc smirked mischievously.

"Relax. I said Hawkeye is taking care of it."

"How?"

"You're staying with her for a while," Havoc said. "Oh, and if anybody asks, she's your girlfriend, but you don't want the doctor to tell anyone because the office romance thing might be a problem at work."

"What?" Fuery asked in disbelief.

"We're trying to get you out of here, don't complain. Mind you, all the doctor's gonna think is that you're one lucky bastard. She's pretty."

"She is, but that's not the point. I can't stay at her apartment and bother her. Besides, I'm currently breaking into people's minds and I can't control it. She can't possibly feel comfortable with me around," Fuery said.

"You'll sleep on the couch, not by her side, man. You won't hear more than voices. And besides, you just see memories, you don't read thoughts."

Havoc shrugged and laughed as Fuery shook his head in annoyance, turning bright red. He was the youngest of the group and he was sick, but he hated being treated like the younger brother.

"I wonder how alcohol would mix with the pills I'm taking…" Kain mumbled ironically.

"Cut the bull. You never drink; you're not gonna start now," Havoc said, not taking his friend seriously.

"Why can't I stay with one of the guys?" Kain asked again.

"Because the doctors required an address to send someone to check on you and be sure you are where we said you would be," Havoc explained calmly. "If they go to her house and don't find you there, we'll be in trouble. And sorry, but none of us can pull the he-is-my-boyfriend lie. Or maybe we could," he added laughing. "But seriously man, no way in hell."

There was a knock on the door, and Lieutenant Hawkeye walked into the room, a little more light-hearted to see Fuery was a lot calmer now that he understood what was happening. The medication seemed to help too, and the mood swings were under control by now. Or at least the young soldier had said so.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, standing by the door so as not to worsen the hallucinations Fuery had.

"I'm all right, thanks. Lieutenant Havoc just told me you're getting me out of the hospital."

"That's right. I spoke to your doctor. He just spent half an hour lecturing me about the medication you're taking," she said.

Havoc could have bet money that Lieutenant Hawkeye, serious and dedicated to work as she was, had probably paid close attention to every word, even though Fuery could take care of himself without her help.

"I can't stay at your place," Fuery continued. "It's okay, I can handle the voices around here. I don't want to bother you."

"I won't be home most of the day, so I don't see how you would bother me," Riza explained. "Besides, those were the colonel's orders."

"Even the boyfriend lie?" Havoc asked casually, a smirk hidden in his lips.

"No, that was the only thing I could come up with as 'get him out of there' was all he said," Hawkeye replied, the concern disguised in her voice slipping unnoticed from the two men. Roy had been acting kind of coldly in the last two days, almost like he was upset with her or something, but Riza couldn't imagine why.

Knowing there wasn't a way to convince the others he'd be all right in the hospital and actually looking forward to leaving the place, Fuery finally packed his things, changed into regular clothes and left with Lieutenant Hawkeye. She drove him to her apartment, spent no more than five minutes showing Kain where he could find anything he needed in the kitchen, then left again for work.

Once he was alone, the sergeant sat on the couch, petting Hayate on the head. The dog seemed delighted to have company in the middle of the afternoon. Luckily, Fuery couldn't hear anything or break into a dog's mind. For an insane moment he had thought that having the dog around would mean more hallucinations, but he was relieved when he didn't see or hear anything. The mind connection that allowed him to pick up memories didn't work on dogs, which was a good thing.

Days passed and Edward, Alphonse and Roy spent all the time they could reading. Riza had been surprised to get home and find out that even Kain was reading something on psychiatry. He had to try and do something to help too, even if it wasn't much, he had said.

Mustang now knew what was going on and believed that Andrew Wright wasn't crazy. He just had abilities science didn't acknowledge. And once Roy was willing to believe it, Andrew finally decided to talk and give the colonel the straight answer he wanted.

Andrew's supposed schizophrenia was indeed the result of an alchemical reaction.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

"And why did you do the same thing to Fuery?" Roy had asked, outraged, although he knew why.

"Would you believe in my story if you hadn't figured it all out on your own?"

He wouldn't. Mustang had to admit he would never have paid attention to a patient from a mental hospital claiming to read people's minds. If they found a way to reverse the alchemy reaction, both Kain and Andrew would benefit from it. At least Andrew had offered to be the first one to test any symbol they could come up with to reverse the process. Also, he had told them that the house where he had lived with his uncle Wesley still existed, and Andrew had taken most of the books Wesley owned to his own apartment in Central. That's where he had found the symbol Wesley had created.

Andrew had run away to Central City to start a new life, but when he received the news about his uncle's death, he realized that the only person who really knew what was going on with him had left this world. He needed to seek help somehow, and so he did.

"And why did you transmute hands on the street?"

"To call somebody's attention. I needed a good alchemist. I saw you on the day that big hand in the alley collapsed. I'm sorry about that, by the way."

"Someone could have been hurt that day!" Mustang snapped. Andrew didn't seem able to express his feelings very well, but he was indeed ashamed of almost having caused some serious accident.

"I know, and I apologize."

"Why didn't you prove your abilities to your doctor?" Mustang asked.

"I told some of the staff of the hospital things about their past long before I could understand what was going on with me. That made some people scared of me and all I got was ECT sessions," Andrew spoke resentfully, unconsciously shrinking in his chair.

Roy found himself speechless. As angry as he felt that Andrew had done what he did, the boy really seemed to have been out of options.

"So I transmuted the hands, got your attention, drew the trap and allowed myself to get caught."

"Allowed?"

"The fence where my pants got stuck? That was on purpose."

"Okay, whatever… Still, why hands specifically? Why transmute hands?"

Mustang thought that hands had to mean something to Andrew. They had to symbolize something, but Andrew's answer was far from what he had expected.

"I wanted to make a crazy person, but then I realized I didn't know what crazy people looked like. When I was walking in the patio on the mental hospital, the other patients would often sit by their windows, looking outside their rooms. I recognized the hands on the windowsills, but I couldn't stand looking at their faces. Every time I looked in their eyes the hallucinations became more real, and that was uncomfortable. So I transmuted hands. Thinking about it, it's sort of silly."

Silly or not, the eerie hands transmuted on the street had done what Andrew wanted them to do. Call the attention of an alchemist.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

In spite of finding dozens of books from Wesley in Andrew's apartment, Roy, Edward and Alphonse were once again about to hit a brick wall. Wesley's research was all too different from what they were used to, and they still couldn't really understand how the symbol that had started all that worked, let alone create a symbol that undid the connection.

"Can you describe it in detail?" Alphonse asked, his huge body clanking as he moved a little on the couch, staring at Sergeant Fuery, who avoided his gaze but talked normally.

Tired but still trying to cooperate, Kain described the place where Edward and Alphonse had spent a month before their master had accepted them as her pupils. There wasn't so much detail in his description of the place, but whatever he could tell was correct. However, he had failed to answer some questions. Fuery saw through Ed's memories that the older Elric had a date written on his pocket watch, but when Edward asked him if he knew what it meant or why he had written it there, Fuery didn't know.

"All right, so it's more like you see and hear things, but you can't tell how people felt, or what they were thinking in these situations," Edward stated, waiting for Kain's confirmation.

"Not really. Sometimes I can imagine it, but I can't tell."

"Interesting…" Ed said.

"And also I see things that people probably considered important. Moments that were bad, that scared them, or when they were very happy about something."

"Memories they can't forget," Alphonse added, and Fuery agreed immediately.

"Yeah, something like that."

"That's what Andrew said. He thinks he connects to the surfaces of the minds of the people around. The moments people can't forget."

Kain suddenly noticed more voices joining all the ones he already heard. They rapidly increased in volume, and he looked at the door of the apartment. These voices were memories from two different people. The sergeant knew who was standing outside the door even before Lieutenant Hawkeye walked into the apartment, followed by Colonel Mustang.

"Any progress?" Roy asked the others.

Ed and Al wanted to tell him about the things they had been discussing, but as they all gathered in the room, they realized four people around Fuery might be a little too much.

"Maybe we should go outside to talk," Mustang suggested, as he noticed Kain seemed to have more voices inside his head than he could handle for long.

"No, you stay. I'll just go out for a walk," the sergeant offered, standing up from his chair.

"You sure?"

"It's late; there won't be many people on the street," Fuery said, slightly annoyed. He couldn't stand being stuck in the apartment the whole day anymore. It was late at night already and no hospital employee would come over to see him now, although a nurse had shown up earlier that same day. Moreover, he knew what triggered the hallucinations, so he could simply avoid these things and stretch his legs for a while without much problem. Hence, he got a jacket and walked outside, relieved to feel the wind on his face.

Central wasn't the safest place at night, but if anyone wanted to approach Kain, he would be able to hear them before they got any closer. Thinking about it, Fuery now knew how Andrew was able to do his transmutations without getting caught. Fuery could easily hear voices he picked from people anywhere within a ten meter range, but if he concentrated, he could pick voices from memories of people up to fifteen or twenty meters away. Those were too unclear for him to understand, like whispers, but still a good alert that somebody was close to him. He assumed that maybe Andrew could hear even further.

Meanwhile, in Riza's apartment, the three alchemists discussed their findings somewhat heatedly. Fuery had been reading memories of people for nearly two weeks now, and they still couldn't find a way to stop it. They had almost finished scanning through Wesley's books and research and all the information that might be important had already been highlighted, but still didn't add up to a solution.

"We can draw a symbol like this…" Edward explained, scribbling on a piece of paper, "…but it would tear the mind of a person apart. The problem is breaking the connections and returning him to normal, without breaking his mind into pieces."

"I see," Mustang said. "Did you get this from your research on human transmutation?" he asked the Elrics.

"Part of it, yes. But we wouldn't have gotten this far if it wasn't for Wesley's research. The guy was a real genius."

The noise of thunder rumbled outside, but they didn't pay much attention to it. Roy thought that rain wasn't going to keep Fuery from taking a stroll outside, especially because it would keep other people at home, and the sergeant might have some blissful silence for a change. It started raining slightly, and after a few minutes, Ed and Al decided to go. Mustang was going to go too, since there wasn't much he could do alone, but Hawkeye said she wanted to talk to him, and he stopped by the door to listen to what she wanted to say.

"Is there anything wrong, Colonel?" Riza asked once they were alone.

"What do you mean wrong?" he asked her back, although he knew what she meant. Things between them hadn't been the same since Roy had heard Andrew talking to Riza about her past.

"You've been irritated… different… in the last few days. I might take it that you are angry at me," Hawkeye explained, truly puzzled about how his sudden change in behavior had lasted much longer than she had expected.

"Maybe I'm just irritated. I don't know," Roy said plainly, trying to look normal. He couldn't tell her that he had heard the interrogation. What would she say? Tell him that it was his fault? It really was, after all. Of all the people in the world, he had disappointed the one that was the most important to him.

"Have a good night," he said.

Riza closed the door after the colonel, still wondering what it was that he didn't want to tell her.

* * *

**A/N: **All right! So I finally explained something! I hope my explanation makes sense to everybody. Also, I'd appreciate some reviews. Thank you all for reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting and see you next Friday!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **Well, it wasn't mine last week and today… guess what? Still not mine!

I want to say thank you to The Great Butler, Oedipus Tex and Sonar for your reviews!

I also want to say thank you to my awesome beta-reader, Ssadropout!

* * *

**Chapter 8 – Invisible Wounds**

It was late at night, and very few people were in the street. Kain was having a pleasant time stretching his legs until the light rain that had been falling down started to get a lot heavier. Fuery didn't want to go back so soon, but as the water soaked his clothes, he decided he shouldn't add a cold to all the problems he already had. Maybe he could make a habit of the late night stroll he thought, looking at Hawkeye's apartment building, on the other side of the street. Two old men were walking towards him and talking to one another, protected from the rain by their umbrellas. For a second, Fuery thought of avoiding them and crossing the street right there.

But what kind of life was that?

Kain had heard all about Andrew, and he knew the boy's strange and anti-social behavior was caused by his mind reading abilities. What if breaking the mind connection turned out to be impossible? Fuery didn't want to live in fear or to become weird and anti-social like Andrew. He had to find a way to cope with his newly-acquired abilities and to lead a normal life somehow. Hence, he walked towards the two men, like he would have done a few weeks before.

The voices he could hear increased in volume, but he ignored them and kept on walking. The two men hadn't even noticed him. When Fuery stopped to cross the street and go back to Hawkeye's apartment, the guys walked by him and stopped as well.

Screaming voices immediately echoed inside Fuery's head and then a big yard with children running around and playing appeared. It wasn't a bad memory. Not everything had to be a terrible moment. But Kain's relief didn't last long, as a house in flames replaced the yard. Kain suddenly saw, as if through the man's own eyes, when he was there in the middle of the fire, trying to pull somebody out.

It wasn't real, the sergeant tried to tell himself, as panic took over.

"Excuse me, do you know what time it is?" one of the men asked Kain.

Fuery heard the question and turned to look at the man. As his eyes met the stranger's eyes, the blazing house became more real, and the heat of the fire finally reached Fuery's nervous system. Desperate to get away and interrupt the hallucination, Kain stepped on the asphalt to cross the street, not saying a word. Simply trying to ignore the hallucinations had been a bad idea.

Edward and Alphonse had just left the building when they saw Sergeant Fuery on the street, trying to get away from two people who wanted to talk to him. Edward was tired and not very attentive to what was going on around him, but when Alphonse yelled by his side and started running, the older Elric realized that a truck was coming down the street and speeding. Fuery apparently hadn't seen it, otherwise he would have waited for it to go by.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. The truck driver honked and tried to brake, but the slippery asphalt made the wheels skid, and the truck kept on pretty much the same direction, not slowing down fast enough. It came to a full stop meters ahead, with the driver startled and holding his breath, but relieved that he hadn't hit anyone. He hadn't felt anything like a bump, at least. He looked out of his window, and saw some people on the sidewalk.

"Watch where you're going, you moron!" he shouted, before accelerating again and leaving.

Alphonse had been just fast enough to cross the street, avoiding the truck and pushing the sergeant back, causing both of them to fall on the sidewalk.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked, joining them in a hurry.

"What the heck, boy? Are you all right?" the man who had tried to talk to Fuery asked, holding him by the arm to help him get back on his feet.

Edward quickly understood the problem as Fuery winced and tried to free himself from the man's grasp. The young alchemist managed to get rid of the concerned strangers by telling them that Fuery was ill but they could take care of him alone. Luckily, that was enough to make the men go away.

"Where did that truck come from?" Kain asked terrified, finally standing up.

Feeling a sharp pain he hadn't even noticed two seconds ago, the sergeant wiped some blood off of his forehead with the back of his hand. The red thick smudge on his hand looked meaningless, considering the sort of damage he might have sustained had Alphonse not pushed him off the street.

"You could have gotten yourself killed!" Edward snapped as soon as no one else was around.

"What the hell happened?" Roy shouted from the other side of the street. There was no sign of the truck now.

Hawkeye heard a hurried knock on the door of her apartment and went to open it, thinking that maybe Ed and Al had left a book behind. She knew something was wrong when she heard Ed's loud voice yelling at Roy.

"Stop complaining, Colonel Jackass!"

"What on earth happened?" Riza asked, as the group - now soaked to the bone except for Mustang - entered the room.

"Fuery almost got hit by a truck," Roy explained. "Alphonse pushed him out of the way, but I think he hit his head."

"I'll get some ice," Riza said, already heading to the kitchen.

"I didn't hit my head, Alphonse's armor scratched me," Fuery finally managed to explain, still feeling his heart flutter inside his chest.

"Erhm, sorry," Alphonse peeped embarrassedly.

"It's okay. If you hadn't pushed me, I'd probably be dead now… Thank you," Fuery said, his face taking on a painful expression.

"Are you hurt or hallucinating?" Roy asked.

"Hallucinating…"

They all stepped away from him, frustrated. They wanted to help him, but didn't really know how. Hawkeye came back with a towel instead of ice, and Fuery pressed it against his forehead, trying to stop the bleeding.

"I'm sorry for all this trouble," he said after a while, as the color came back to his cheeks.

"Man, we have to find a way to reverse this damn alchemy reaction. He can't live like this!" Edward shouted again.

"Seriously? Now you noticed?" Mustang said sarcastically, ignoring a rude gesture Edward made and asking Fuery to see the cut on his forehead.

It was a shallow cut and no blood vessels of bigger caliber had been nicked, but it was bleeding quite a bit. The water had washed the blood down, and Kain's face and shirt were covered in faint red.

"You'll need stitches. It's a clean cut, at least. I can drive you to the hospital," Roy offered.

Fuery sighed, pressing the towel against the cut. That meant a lot of people around him, starting more vivid hallucinations.

"Would you rather me sew it up for you?" Riza asked, as they all knew the hospital environment wasn't Fuery's favorite.

"Do you know how to?" the sergeant asked hopefully.

"More or less. I've done it before. I can't guarantee the scar will look so good, though."

"It's fine. I think it's not a big cut anyway."

"I'll do that," Roy said. "I had to sew some cuts for other guys in Ishbal. Even Hughes once. He tripped in barbed wire and got a big cut on his shin." Mustang smiled briefly at this specific memory. Hughes had nagged him for hours saying that the scar would look terrible, but in the end, covered by leg hair, it had healed to be almost imperceptible.

"It would be better if you changed into some dry clothes first, Fuery," Riza suggested, as Kain was completely wet and dripping water everywhere.

Edward and Alphonse decided that Roy and Riza could take care of it alone and left, while the sergeant went to get some clean clothes from a bag he had brought to Hawkeye's apartment. At least the cut wasn't bleeding so much anymore, or he would have had a hard time trying to put on another T-shirt without staining it.

Hawkeye boiled a needle and some sewing thread, and Fuery and Mustang sat down in the kitchen, where the light was brighter. Mustang suggested getting Fuery whisky or something else to drink, but Hawkeye was quick to remember the sergeant was taking medication that couldn't be mixed with alcohol. Still, Kain preferred to have the stitches with no anesthesia than going to the hospital.

"Hold still, I have a needle within an inch of your eye," Roy warned the sergeant.

Fuery agreed, making his best effort not to move. He didn't know exactly how much pain to expect from it, but he felt almost numb at the moment. Stress had tired him out, and all he wanted was to call it a day and go to sleep.

"Seriously. Don't jump or anything," Mustang insisted.

"Okay."

Roy used some gauze to clean the wound then stuck the needle on the skin above the cut.

"Ow…"

"Do you see anything now?" Roy asked.

"I think it's a bar. Your mother's bar," Kain said. "Ouch!" he groused, making a face.

"And what's going on?" Mustang asked again, just to keep a conversation. Maybe if he could hold Fuery's attention, the sergeant would be less likely to mistake hallucinations for reality and move all of a sudden.

"There are some drunken guys fighting."

"It was pretty common, I remember that. Keep talking."

Fuery continued describing a sequence of images that popped into his head, his description being interrupted by an occasional wince. He started describing some memories of Ishbal, but Roy soon noticed a change in the way he spoke. Two stitches down and one to go, Fuery now seemed to be thinking of something to say. Roy wondered if he had picked something he didn't want to describe to him and was simply mentioning an event he had seen previously.

"Done," Mustang said as he finished the third stitch and decided he didn't want to know what it was that Kain had seen but didn't want to talk about. It was probably some Ishbal bloodshed memory.

"Thank you," Kain said with a sigh of relief, taking a pack of ice Hawkeye had gotten for him and pressing it against the cut to ease the pain.

"All right, I should get going," Mustang announced. "We'll find a way to fix all that mind reading problem, but for now, try to avoid going out on your own."

Fuery nodded in an embarrassed fashion and then remembered there was something else he needed to talk to Mustang about.

"I was thinking…"

"Yeah?"

"Did Andrew tell us everything he knew? Because I thought that some things were still unclear."

"Lots of things were unclear," Mustang observed.

"Maybe if I talk to him, I can get something new from him," Fuery said.

"You mean reading his mind?" Riza asked, finding the suggestion pretty interesting. However, that meant taking Fuery down to the headquarters, and asking him to deliberately read the mind of somebody who probably had lots of bad memories to be picked up by him.

"That's possible, but it's late now. Let's do that tomorrow then," Mustang decided, and then headed to the door, saying good-bye.

Hawkeye couldn't help but notice he had avoided her gaze again before leaving. Something had to be wrong.

"Are you all right?" Kain asked her as she closed the door after Roy, looking rather worried about something.

"I am. It's just that I'm under the impression he's angry at me for some reason," Riza said, quickly adding, "It must be my imagination."

"I… I think he actually is," Kain said.

When Mustang was stitching up his forehead injury, Kain had picked from him a recent memory that involved Hawkeye. He only hadn't described it to the colonel because Riza was there and he didn't want to create an awkward situation.

"When you interrogated Andrew Wright in the hospital, he told you things from your past, right?"

"Yes, why?"

"The colonel overheard part of your conversation. I think he was going to walk into the room, but stopped by the door and heard some things Andrew said. About how you regretted showing some alchemy symbol to him. That you had no way of knowing he'd become a murderer."

Fuery shifted uncomfortably under Hawkeye's surprised gaze. Ishbal was a painful wound for both Mustang and Hawkeye, and the sergeant could now understand why better than ever.

"He told you that or did you pick that memory from him?" Riza asked worriedly.

"I picked it up just now. I guess it has to mean something to him or I wouldn't see it."

"Do you think he believed it?" Riza asked and noticed, by the slightly doubtful look on Fuery's face, that he had believed it too. "It wasn't like that," she added.

Kain thought the symbol was probably connected to Mustang's fire alchemy, but couldn't imagine why Hawkeye would have it tattooed on her back. He had picked random memories and it was like trying to put together a puzzle without having all the pieces. He didn't really want to ask for the missing pieces, but there was one thing that really bugged him.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"No, go ahead," Riza said, already feeling that whatever the sergeant wanted to ask about, it would probably be hard to answer.

"Why did the colonel burn your back?"

Both Mustang and Hawkeye, especially Hawkeye, didn't talk much about their lives before joining the military or about the war. Fuery had been slightly afraid of asking Hawkeye anything about her past and when she stood up from her chair, Kain thought he had crossed the line. However, the lieutenant just went to the stove and poured some coffee in two cups for them, before sitting down again.

"My father was an alchemist," she started saying.

Fuery sipped his coffee in silence while she told him all about the tattoo she had on her back and the colonel and even things about the war. It was hard to listen to all these sad things and know that they had really happened, but Fuery was somewhat relieved to know that at least Hawkeye didn't hate the colonel for what he had done. After seeing the war through Mustang's eyes, Kain had been desperate to hear someone say something that helped him to restore his recently shaken faith in the man.

"Andrew got it all wrong then," Kain said with a nod when Hawkeye finished her story.

Riza just rubbed her forehead tiredly, thinking about how much upset or angry Roy was. It had been days now and still no change, so she guessed he was quite hurt by that comment. Being late at night, she would have to wait until at least the next day to talk to him about it. It would probably be better this way though, as she wanted to think about how she was going to bring the matter up in the first place. Riza took a shower and went back to the living room, only to find the sergeant already asleep on the couch, and Hayate comfortably lying on the soldier's belly, sound asleep as well.

Maybe letting Kain pick up memories from Andrew would provide some new information. Riza was certain that if they couldn't reverse the alchemical reaction that had done that to Fuery, the sergeant wouldn't ever be able to live a normal life again. As worried as she was, Riza knew Fuery was itching to do something to help in the investigation.

The next morning when Hawkeye and Fuery got to the headquarters, even though it was still early, another soldier whose name they couldn't even remember came to the office with a message.

"Yes?" Lieutenant Hawkeye asked as she stepped out of the office to talk to the man alone.

"General Grumman wishes to see you in his office. Now, if possible," the man said, with a serious expression.

Hawkeye told the others she'd be back soon and left to meet Grumman, wondering why the old man would want to talk to her. If he wanted to know about the investigation, he should talk to Colonel Mustang, not to her.

About three or four seconds after Riza knocked on the door of Grumman's office, the general opened it with a smile.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" she asked.

"Yes, yes. Please, come in," Grumman motioned her to a chair in front of his desk, closed the door and sat down as well. "I received a report regarding the situation of Sergeant Kain Fuery. He works with you, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"He's your boyfriend?" the general asked like he merely expected a confirmation.

Riza swallowed her surprise worriedly. This might get both her and Fuery in trouble, especially if other people apart from the general had heard.

"We are not involved," she said, to which Grumman shook his head and laughed. "He could only be released from the hospital if someone close could take care of him. It was my idea only. I lied to the doctor. I recognize my mistake and I am ready to assume the consequences," Hawkeye continued.

"Consequences?" Grumman asked, no criticism visible in his expression. In fact, Hawkeye thought he almost seemed to think the situation was funny.

"I'm not talking about consequences," the old man continued with a broad smile, but suddenly became serious. "Wait, what consequences are _you_ talking about? You're not pregnant, are you?"

"No," Riza said quickly, disturbed at Grumman's straightforwardness. "I am not involved with Sergeant Fuery. We work together, that is all."

"Oh," Grumman said, interlocking his fingers and resting his elbows on his desk. "Because if you two are together, I can help you dodge reprimands."

Hawkeye could barely believe how insistent Grumman could be.

"Riza, honestly. You're my granddaughter, you can tell me the truth. Are you involved with this Kain Fuery? Formalities apart, just tell me."

"No, I'm not. Honestly, I'm not lying to you," Hawkeye spoke, a hint of impatience in her voice.

"Huh. So I spent the last hour reading this for nothing," Grumman moaned, getting a file from the desk drawer and dropping it carelessly on the desk in front of Hawkeye.

Riza immediately recognized the personnel file and the picture of Sergeant Fuery on the first page.

"Were you reading about him?" she asked incredulously.

"Of course I was! I thought he was your boyfriend!"

"You actually seem disappointed that we're not together," Riza observed, slightly suspicious.

"Well, yes and no," Grumman admitted. "For a moment I did think I might finally have the great grandchildren I have been waiting for." Riza rolled her eyes at that. Grumman ignored her expression and continued, "But actually I'm happy to know Mustang's still in the game."

The man started laughing loudly, making Hawkeye uncertain whether she felt embarrassed or just irritated. However, the mention of Mustang's name called her attention.

"Why Colonel Mustang?" she asked with curiosity.

"Oh, please. He's a smart man, elegant, rank escalating quickly over the last few years, and you know him well, don't you?"

"I do," she admitted.

"Have you told him we are related?"

"I think he heard once my mother's maiden name was Grumman. He asked me about it, and I told him Grumman is a fairly common name."

"Well, you didn't lie. Many people coming from the same area our ancestors lived in took this surname."

Riza herself had asked General Grumman not to tell anyone that she was his granddaughter. Back when her father was alive, Grumman had kept this information a secret because he knew Riza's father was an alchemist, and he didn't want the army to recruit the man to go to war. When she had joined the army, she didn't want to call attention to herself. Being just another unknown soldier was better for her. And now, as she worked under Mustang, being known only for her reputation as a sharp shooter was enough. She had become first lieutenant on her own merit, and she took pride in that.

"Okay, so Sergeant Fuery's not your guy…" Grumman said in a sad tone.

"Does anyone else think we are involved?" Hawkeye asked, truly hoping damage control would be simple.

"Just another two people. I have already told them to be quiet about it. I'll fix the misunderstanding."

"How exactly were you planning to help me, if I was involved with somebody from work?"

"Oh, please… Do you know how many people in the army get romantically involved?" Grumman asked with a mischievous smile. "It would go in your files; you and this man would probably have to work in different offices, but it's not like you'd be arrested. And that's only if somebody could prove that you were in a relationship. My advice to you, if you get involved with someone from work, keep it a secret for as long as possible. If you decide to marry the guy, then you come forward. Once you're married, the fuss calms down."

"Why do you assume I will get involved with somebody from work?"

"Riza, what do you do apart from working? Don't take your life so seriously. I'm getting old and I'd like to see you get married before I bite it, you know?"

The lieutenant shook her head hopelessly with a quick smile. Her grandfather was a real piece of work. At least he had taken the situation under control and hadn't let the rumor spread. She apologized again for the misunderstanding and went back to the interrogation room.

Falman had just brought Andrew from the hospital, and Hawkeye arrived just in time to see Colonel Mustang and Sergeant Fuery walk into the room with Wright. That would be the first time the young alchemist met Fuery since the sergeant had stepped on the trap.

There was a table in the middle of the room and two chairs on opposite sides of the table, facing one another. Fuery sat in one, and the colonel indicated the other, asking Andrew to sit down.

"What is this?" Andrew asked, already very suspicious of them. "You are the guy who stepped on my trap," he said to Fuery, looking right into his eyes, however uncomfortable that was for both of them.

"I am," Fuery replied, maintaining the eye contact.

"Why are we here?" Andrew turned to Mustang. "You don't expect him to read my memories, do you?"

"You can read everybody's memories. Why can't he read yours?" Mustang said with a shrug, taking a third chair in the corner of the room and sitting down far from the two mind readers.

Andrew shook his head and a mean smile broke out on his face as he finally took his place on the empty chair. What could they expect to get out of him by doing this? Andrew had already told them everything they needed to know, but they still thought he was crazy, or not trustworthy?

"You go inside my mind, I'll go into yours," he warned the sergeant.

"Fine with me," Kain said, although Mustang could see there was something about the idea that made him queasy.

This was probably going to be the weirdest interrogatory Mustang would ever see.

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**A/N: **Just a little bit of weirdness sprinkled with more weirdness and a weird cherry on top. I hope you enjoyed. I also hope you'll leave a review because you are all greeeat readers, right? (LOL) Thanks a lot for reading, reviewing and alerting! Have a nice weekend and see you next Friday!


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **FMA does not belong to me… Brain not available now. Leave a message after the beep.

I want to say thank you to The Great Butler and Sonar for your reviews!

I also want to say thank you to my awesome beta-reader, Ssadropout!

* * *

**Chapter 9 – Old Memories Recovered**

Fuery had been sitting just far enough from Andrew to avoid the visual hallucinations from beginning. As Roy gave him a quick nod, the sergeant dragged his chair closer to the table and let all the images that formed flow freely into his head. Andrew's memories invaded his mind like he had just flicked on a switch. A mental hospital scenario showed up around him in amazing detail. If he didn't try to control the hallucinations, they became so vivid that it was like stepping into a completely different world. Suddenly the interrogation room was barely there, replaced by the white walls and nurses.

"I see some other cadets gave you hell in the academy, huh?" Andrew's voice brought Kain back to reality.

"Gave me and everybody else hell. I wasn't even a common target," Kain replied calmly. Andrew leaned back on his chair, scrutinizing Fuery. He had expected to get some reaction out of the sergeant. Maybe the academy wasn't a memory that bugged him, but Andrew knew well that everybody had memories that bothered them. He just needed to keep looking for the right one.

Fuery kept staring at Andrew, letting the images in again. The mental hospital, the medication, the ECT – Fuery flinched at that point but tried to remain in control – the other patients, constant voices, doctors, nurses, a house. Light blue walls, surrounded by tall grass. White windows, plants on the windowsill. It was a big country house. And then a man and a woman, with features that resembled Andrew's. Probably Andrew's parents, who had died when he was very young.

But just as Fuery dug through Andrew's memories for the next fifteen minutes or so, the other did the same, sifting through Kain's memories and looking for something to talk about.

"You ran away from home?" the blond lad finally said with a smirk. "I thought soldiers joined the army because they wanted to protect the country, but you simply wanted to be away from father."

Part of that was true and Fuery knew. He did want to be away from his father, but that wasn't his only reason to join the army. Kain took a deep breath and tried to focus again. Wesley's face appeared, and the sergeant could see from Andrew's point of view as the old man patiently explained alchemical theories to him. And through the same eyes he saw Andrew transmuting simple objects. That image shattered suddenly and the image of the mental hospital filled his mind again. He saw patients around him – Andrew, actually – but didn't see their faces. Apparently Wright always avoided looking into other people's eyes.

"You abandoned your old man?" Andrew taunted again.

"My father was always getting drunk and yelling, breaking things around the house and beating me up," Fuery said bitterly.

"Yeah, I saw that. Bottle of beer flying around the house… Cursing, yelling… You wanted so much to hide those bottles of booze, but you were scared of him…" Andrew said and laughed, pleased that he had finally found something that bothered the other.

"Take it easy," Mustang said to Kain, who nodded in response and turned again to Andrew.

"Damn scrawny kid, never gonna be a real man…"

Fuery bit his lower lip hard. He had to try hard to control himself, because Andrew sounded so much like his father that it was almost like having the old man right there. Mustang easily noticed how tensed up Fuery was. Both his fists were clenched under the table, but Kain tried to forget about his father and concentrate on the mind reading. Andrew's uncle appeared again inside his head, accompanying Andrew to his parents' funeral. Two minutes later everything changed and he saw Central City again. There wasn't a sequence in the memories, they just came in randomly.

"I can't believe you actually hid inside your wardrobe. No guts to face the old man when he was hammered?" Andrew said with a boisterous laugh.

"If you were eight or nine years old and your father entered your room yelling like a psycho, you would hide too," Fuery said.

As the mind-reading dispute went on, Roy wondered whether this had been a good idea at all, but Fuery seemed so determined to find something useful that he decided to let him continue. They had been there for almost an hour already, and during most of this time, both mind readers just stared quietly at each other, going through memories Mustang couldn't see or hear.

"Your mother had schizophrenia? I wouldn't have imagined that…"

Silence followed, and Mustang had the impression that Andrew was analyzing something particularly interesting. However, interesting for Andrew probably meant something that Fuery wouldn't like to remember.

"She thought you weren't her son, now that's funny!" Andrew shouted with counterfeit excitement.

Fuery closed his eyes, every muscle in his body about to make him jump. Roy dragged his chair as close to Fuery as he could without taking part in the visual hallucinations of either man. He was afraid that he might need to pull Fuery away at any moment. Roy knew that even someone as nice and gentle as the sergeant could get angry and lose control if one knew which buttons to push. And Andrew apparently knew those. The colonel watched attentively as Kain opened his eyes again slowly, locking in on Andrew, like his gaze could pierce through the lad's head. He kept the eye contact for a long time, barely blinking, until Andrew smiled again, scratching his chin with an interested expression.

"Her paranoia was so bad she didn't want to talk to you. Or at least that's what the doctors told you," Andrew said and shrugged casually. "And you thought it was because she didn't recognize you with the new glasses? I think she just knew the crappy husband she had. And an apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"She was sick, damn it!" Fuery suddenly stood up, slapping his hands on the table. Andrew had finally discovered the best way to set him off. Roy decided to step in, pulling Fuery back. It had been too much already. Mustang just wanted to get Fuery out of the room, but the sergeant resisted and turned to Andrew again. "You weren't supposed to step on that symbol! Your uncle didn't experiment on you! You simply stepped on it by accident!"

"Accident? My uncle needed to test the symbol and I happened to be around and available. Big accident that was…" Andrew said sarcastically.

"You're wrong. I saw it," Fuery said angrily, but not trying to get away from Mustang, who still held him firmly by the shirt.

Fuery looked down and shook his head furiously, gritting his teeth, then closed his eyes and pulled his shoulder a little to the side. Mustang understood what he meant. Taking a step back, Roy let go of the sergeant. Despite being nervous, he was still in control of himself and at last, he had gotten some information that might be interesting.

"How do you know it, if I don't remember?" Andrew inquired suspiciously, not willing to believe Fuery had an idea of what he was talking about.

"I saw it, nice and clear. You found the key on the door to the basement, unlocked it and went in alone. That's when you stepped on the symbol."

"That's not what I was told," Andrew replied, but not so confident anymore.

"What you were told?" Mustang asked.

The colonel sat down on his chair again, interested in the course the conversation was taking. "How much do you remember of your uncle?"

"Basically, I can't remember almost anything from my childhood. It's like I picked so many memories from other people that my mind got too full and erased my own memories. That's the hell I'm living in!" Andrew spat.

"Even though you can't remember, I saw many of your old memories. If the doctors or the police told you this nonsense, then they were wrong. I don't see you being beaten once," Fuery said. "I don't see your uncle doing _any_thing bad to you."

"He didn't beat me?" Andrew asked with a laugh. "Okay, whatever."

"You would remember," Kain said resentfully.

"But he turned me into this."

"You stepped on the symbol he had drawn, and it activated on its own. I saw Wesley there right after it, and he was totally freaking out. You weren't supposed to step on it! Wesley had drawn it for himself, he told you that," Kain said and Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but didn't make a sound.

"You're saying it really was an accident?" Mustang asked.

"I saw it clearly. I have no doubt about it. Andrew did this to himself. Wesley didn't mean for that to happen to him."

"This isn't… this isn't possible…" Andrew started to mumble nervously, his breathing getting more labored. "All these years… It's not possible!"

"Everyone told you he had experimented on you and you actually started to believe them," Fuery said, looking away from him.

A tear sprouted from Andrew's eye, followed by another and another.

"Why did you tell me this?" he asked in a trembling voice.

"You needed to know. You can't go on hating a man who never did anything bad to you," Fuery scolded him. "That's all I could get," the sergeant then said to Roy, standing up and leaving the room in a hurry. The door hit the opposite wall with a loud noise as he pushed it open abruptly. Roy caught it before it slammed shut again. The doorknob had left a dent on the wall.

Havoc had been waiting outside the door to be sure the interrogation wouldn't be interrupted, while Hawkeye and the others were waiting in the next room, with the door open. Edward and Alphonse had just arrived and gotten themselves a couple of seats when they heard the door hit the wall outside and saw Fuery walk past their room in a hurry. Havoc went after him and Mustang walked by them a few seconds afterwards.

"What in the world?" Edward asked.

"Stay here you two,' Hawkeye ordered and followed the soldiers. Knowing better than making the commotion even bigger, Breda and Falman decided to wait there and keep an eye on Andrew.

The sergeant tromped his way down the corridors of the headquarters, luckily not meeting anyone on his way. He stopped by a window to the gardens outside, looking through the glass, chest moving up and down fast with his noisy breathing. He could feel a mixture of pain and anger swarming inside him, and he barely had any control of it right now.

"Are you all right?" Havoc asked worriedly, standing a few meters away from him.

"Please, stay away," Fuery said, as different voices resonated inside his mind, mostly coming from Jean.

"Okay, I'm not getting any closer," the lieutenant replied, trying to sound calm.

"All this is going to continue forever, isn't it?" Fuery said, staring out the window like a caged bird and resting his head on the glass. "No one knows how to fix this, and the only man who might be able to do something about it was unfairly arrested and died."

Mustang stopped by Havoc's side, casting a worried look at Fuery. Kain looked pretty much like the first time Roy had seen him after the alchemical reaction. Locked in a world of his own, created by alchemy, and which nobody could fully understand how it worked.

The second lieutenant elbowed Roy to get his attention then pleaded in a whisper, "Say something."

Mustang barely had an idea of what to say, but knew something had to be said. He had to solve this crisis quickly before somebody else showed up. If he wanted to get Fuery back to work once he fixed this situation, public displays of nervous breakdowns wouldn't help.

"Sergeant," Roy called.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'd appreciate it if you could leave me alone for now."

"Enough," Mustang's tone was serious and demanding. "Let's get you out of here."

"Please," Fuery said without turning around, his voice unsteady, his features contorted into a grimace Roy could only see because of the reflection on the window glass.

"Sergeant, listen to me!" Roy yelled.

Havoc straightened himself up nervously, fearing Roy would be too strict with Fuery. Kain had enough to deal with, what could Mustang expect? Jean looked around, concerned that the commotion would soon call other people to join the scene. Hawkeye finally arrived, but knowing well about the mind-reading problem, she stopped by Jean's side, not going any closer to Kain.

"_Just cut him some slack…" _ Havoc thought, before Mustang continued.

"I promise I'll find a way to fix this, but if you ever want to go back to work, we shouldn't let anyone else see you like this."

"Like what, acting crazy?" Kain asked, still staring outside.

"You're not crazy, damn it! You have too much in your head now," Roy said. "I'd probably have blown a fuse if I were in your shoes. Now listen, about the stuff Andrew said."

The sergeant risked a quick glance over his shoulder. He wished Mustang wouldn't say anything about that, especially with Hawkeye and Havoc there to listen, but he had already been disrespectful enough, so he listened meekly.

"Life dumped a load of crap on your head, I get it, but that doesn't change who you are. You can sweep all your problems, your issues, whatever, under the carpet, but you know what? Eventually, all that crap turns up. Hell, I know it does. I've been there."

Hawkeye heard Mustang speaking and wondered if he ever listened to his own advice.

"So now you pull yourself together and deal with it. Either you do that or it's going to keep haunting you forever," Mustang concluded, his own life experiences finally being good for something. He knew how the past could bother a person.

Fuery didn't answer. He just kept staring without much interest at the world outside the window. A world that didn't stop spinning because one man had tripped and fallen. Knowing that a moment of silence was desperately needed, Mustang was quiet, until Kain cast an embarrassed look at him. Despite still breathing heavily, he seemed a little calmer.

"Good thing you did there," Mustang added. "Andrew needed to know what really happened."

"He did," Kain agreed, looking away from Mustang.

It wasn't even the memories he picked from the colonel that made him antsy now, but the fact that he had just lost control in front of his superior. A man he admired and wanted to impress somehow, and who probably saw him as an emotional fool right now.

"But I didn't get anything useful," the sergeant continued.

"We'll find a way with or without his help. Now let's get you out of here before someone comes asking questions," Roy ordered.

"Yes, sir," Fuery replied, and followed the other soldiers out of the building in shy muteness.

They walked into the garage and Roy ordered Havoc to take his car and drive Fuery back to Hawkeye's apartment. The sergeant would have preferred to walk there on his own, but after almost suffering an accident the day before, he didn't complain. He got in the car Havoc had just unlocked, but Mustang asked the second lieutenant to wait and got in too, sitting in the driver's seat of the parked car.

"I'm sorry, sir," Fuery said, not looking at Mustang.

"It's okay. And about the things that Andrew said in there… you never mentioned any of that stuff."

Fuery shrugged, staring at the car panel.

"What should I have said? Hey, guess what? My mother was crazy and my father drank too much?" he said annoyed, as he tried to focus on the conversation and ignore images that popped into his head.

"Yeah, I know," Roy said with a sigh.

"Now you also know why I don't like to get drunk," Fuery added, a bit resentful of many jokes the others had made before because he never drank much. As Mustang agreed in silence, Kain continued. Maybe he just needed to get it off his chest for once in his life.

"My father was nice before my mom got sick. But he couldn't deal with mom's disease and he started drinking. Alcohol is the coward's way out. And after my mom died he started drinking more and more. He was always depressed, and he would get violent when he was drunk."

"So you left."

"He wanted me to work in the mines like him," Fuery said with a slightly sarcastic tone, shaking his head like he thought the idea was ridiculous.

"Mines?"

"Coal. But how could I work in the mines? I'm not tall or strong enough for heavy work…"

"Sergeant, how many people in this country can work in mines?" Mustang asked.

"A lot of people I suppose."

"How many people can fix the army communication lines, radio, telephones?"

"Probably not many."

"Mines, Sergeant Fuery? Really?" the colonel asked in outright disbelief. "Who _wants_ to work in a mine? Now do yourself a favor, stop worrying about what your father wanted you to be. I'm sure you exceeded his expectations by far."

Mustang noticed a shadow of a smile take shape on the sergeant's face, before it quickly disappeared.

"I'm sorry that you had to listen to all this."

"Quit worrying. I'm telling you that as a friend. Damn, I have my problems too. Everybody does. Fuck, even Hughes, who seemed to be the most well-adjusted person in the world, had his problems," Mustang blurted out. "It took a really big amount of alcohol for him to say anything about them, but he did have some things that tormented him."

"I wouldn't have guessed that."

"Yeah, well… that's life. It sucks, but you can't let it take you down."

Hawkeye and Havoc watched as Mustang got out of the car and the second lieutenant could finally take Fuery back to the apartment. Hawkeye followed Roy back to the office room they shared, but the colonel shut himself in his own office without saying another word.

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**A/N: **Hello guys! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I know I wrote a lot about Fuery, but this is all important for the story and he is an important character here. So thanks a lot for following my story. Be brave! Just a few more chapters! Thanks again and see you next Friday!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

I want to say thank you to The Great Butler and Sonar for your great reviews!

I also want to say thank you to my awesome beta-reader, Ssadropout!

* * *

**Chapter 10 – Wesley Wright's Story**

Locked in his own office, Roy wanted to think about the things Fuery had found out about Andrew, and didn't feel like being disturbed. However, soon there was a knock on the door, and the colonel even considered ignoring it, but Hawkeye's voice came through the wood, asking if she could talk to him. Mustang didn't want to, but opened the door anyway. The words 'cold-blooded-killer' pounded inside his head, but he managed to hide his pain from the first lieutenant.

"How is he? Fuery?"

"He'll live," Roy replied. "If you're here for the big I told you so…" he continued, standing there as Hawkeye walked in.

Hawkeye noticed Mustang wasn't really interested in talking to her right now as he didn't even invite her to sit down. He probably wanted to make it as quick as possible, but Riza needed to talk to him.

"It's not that," she replied, closing the door behind her so they could have some privacy.

"Then what is it?"

"Sergeant Fuery told me you overheard my conversation with Andrew in the hospital."

Roy leaned sideways against the wall, crossing his arms nonchalantly. That was his usual attitude when he was pleased with himself, but Hawkeye thought he was trying too hard to look fine.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," he said.

"You know."

"Fuery told you, huh? Funny he didn't mention it to me," he said sarcastically.

"Did you really believe that?" Hawkeye's tone was actually hurt. Mustang raised an eyebrow at that, but still kept his unimpressed look.

"Shouldn't I? He hasn't been wrong until now. I get it that you're angry at me for all I did, but why do you still work with me if you think I disgraced your father? If I'm just a cold-blooded-killer?"

"Because I don't think that," Riza said seriously. "I regretted showing you that tattoo on my back. I did. Before you left my house, the last picture I had of you, inside my head, was a picture of hope and expectation. Then I found you in Ishbal. If you could have seen the look in your eyes..."

Riza gave Roy a pained look, as she tried to pluck up the courage to continue talking about the matter. This talk would probably be like yanking a band-aid. The quicker she pulled it off, the less it would hurt.

"I saw your fire alchemy in action at that time and I was so…" she paused, looking away from Roy, "angry at myself."

"Yourself?" Roy was lost now. He uncrossed his arms, losing his stubborn pose and replacing it with a curious and rather concerned expression. Hawkeye didn't talk much about her feelings. He couldn't complain because he did the same thing, but now that she was talking, Roy couldn't ignore her.

"On the day I found you, only a couple of hours earlier, I had watched another sniper shoot an Ishbalian kid dead. He was by my side, in the church tower. It all happened too fast for me to do anything about it. He grabbed a pistol and shot himself in the head. I had to change my jacket because of the blood splatter. Then I saw you there. I saw you using my father's alchemy and I saw what it had done to you."

"You didn't force me to use it, Lieutenant," Roy said, feeling his keep-it-cool mask fall apart. "You couldn't seriously think I'd commit suicide too."

"I didn't know what to think back then," Riza said, looking back at Roy, her uneasiness appearing terribly awkward for Mustang.

She was always so strong and calm that it often wasn't easy for him to remember how many emotional scars she still had. He needed someone strong and level-headed around, but she was just like him. Always pretending that everything was all right. Always willing to help the others, but not allowing anyone to help her.

"When the war was over I was relieved to see you were still yourself," Hawkeye continued. "Determined to do something and make a difference, despite all we'd been through. And I wanted to help you. I trusted you and I still do. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here."

Roy felt stupid now. He had let his emotions cloud his judgment and believed in Andrew, a complete stranger, who didn't know Hawkeye. Even if he could pick memories from her, how could Wright understand how Riza felt in such a complex situation?

"I'm sorry," Roy finally said. "I should have known better."

"You should," Riza told him, "but I understand why you didn't. I guess both of us still have difficulties trying to deal with Ishbal. You said it yourself. You can sweep it under the carpet…"

"But eventually, it turns up," Roy finished her sentence and nodded. Her amber eyes met his and she smiled.

A brief sad smile. Such a wound would never heal completely. It just couldn't. They needed it to remind themselves they still had to keep fighting for what they believed to be right. Roy leaned forward only a little as they were already very close, and let his forehead touch Riza's. The sadness in his eyes was the same that had struck him during the war. Still there. All the regret. A single tear went down his left cheek, and Riza moved back a little to wipe it gently with her thumb.

"I'm sorry. I guess I always feared that you hated me for what I've become."

"I don't hate you. God… Roy…" Riza said, placing both hands on Mustang's cheeks. "I went through the same hell and I know what it feels like. I never hated you."

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

_Soldiers in Ishbal were never sure whether they would see their families again one day. Every friend or colleague they lost made the possibility of dying in battle feel more real. Sometimes they talked about the people they loved, to try to keep their hopes of meeting them again._

"_I can't wait to see my girl again. I'm going to propose to her. Do you think she'll say yes?" Hughes said dreamingly, putting the letter he had received back in the envelope._

"_I believe she will. She's always sending you letters," Mustang replied, holding a cigarette and blowing smoke in the air. "Damn, this tastes like burned charcoal," he complained._

"_Then quit blowing smoke in my face. You didn't smoke before."_

"_I don't smoke, I just don't have anything better to do."_

_With a swift move, Hughes yanked the cigarette from Roy's hand and threw it in the fire they had lit to keep the cold of the desert night away. Mustang watched in disbelief as the cigarette burned to ashes._

"_Don't start smoking then," Hughes complained. "You know many women don't like that. What if you get a girl who doesn't like the smell?"_

"_Who cares…"_

"_Oh, that's right. You already have a girl," Hughes remembered._

"_No, I don't."_

"_What about your master's daughter? Didn't you have a thing for her?"_

"_Not possible anymore," Roy mumbled, getting a knife from his pocket and removing the dust from under his fingernails with the tip. _

"_Why not? Oh, man… Did she get a guy already?"_

"_No."_

"_Then what's the problem?" Hughes inquired with a confused expression._

"_She's here. You've met her, Hughes."_

"_Really? Who is she?" Hughes asked, overly curious. _

_Roy sighed before answering, "The sniper."_

"_Hawkeye? Man, I have to say, she's pretty. Not as pretty as my girl, but…"_

"_Shut up, Hughes."_

"_But what's the problem? Why isn't it possible anymore?"_

"_Just drop it."_

"_Oh, am I so hot that she likes me instead of you now?" Maes joked, to which Roy grabbed some sand from the ground and tossed it in his friend's direction._

"_No, you idiot."_

"_Come on, man. Just tell me, what's the matter?"_

"_Hughes, isn't it obvious?" Roy uttered. "She's seen me. She saw my fire alchemy and she looked horrified. Would you like your girl to see you shooting Ishbalian teenagers dead?"_

"_Oh." Hughes' tone of voice was serious for the first time. "I'm sorry, man."_

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

"Hawkeye," Mustang said, trying to stop thinking about the past and taking one of her hands into his. "Do you think soldiers like us can live a normal life one day? After everything we did; everything we've been through?"

"I don't think it's possible, or fair, to forget Ishbal," Riza said, looking down at her own hand, which Roy caressed tenderly. "But punishing ourselves for what we did won't bring anyone back. We have to keep going, and fight for what we believe to be right."

"Yes, but… like a normal life outside the headquarters?" Mustang insisted.

"You mean like Hughes?"

"Yes, sort of."

"Why wouldn't you be able to have a normal life outside the headquarters?"

"Would you?"

"I suppose," Riza answered. "Why?"

"Nothing."

Riza kept her demanding look locked in on him, and Mustang knew she still hadn't given up on him.

"Just… Well…" he continued. "If one day I invited you out for dinner, what would you say?"

"Like on a date?" Hawkeye asked uncertainly, and Roy could see by the slightly confused look in her face that he had really caught her off guard.

"Yes, a date," he said.

The lieutenant looked away from him for a second, very surprised. She hadn't seen that one coming, although she should have imagined it. It wasn't a bad surprise at all, but it wasn't that simple either. Getting romantically involved with people from work…

"You're my superior, Colonel," she said.

Roy swallowed his frustration. Did Hawkeye ever think of anything apart from work?

"I know that. Still, what would you say?" he insisted. He had already crossed the boundaries of the healthy superior/subordinate relationship. Also, they had much more than that. They weren't merely soldiers working together. They had been there for each other long before that.

Hawkeye did her best not to laugh when she remembered what Grumman had said earlier. Maybe her grandfather was right after all. She did want him to be right about it.

"I think I'd say yes. If you promised not to talk about work during this date," she said at last.

"Good to know," Mustang replied, giving her an affectionate grin.

"But now we have to get back to work," Riza added and left the office, smiling back at him.

Roy watched her leave and once he was alone, he ran his fingers through his hair and laughed at himself, still not certain of how he had managed to do that. It was like a tropical storm had just gone by the room.

"_Oh, boy… If I knew she'd say yes so easily, I would have asked her out ages ago," _he thought, seriously trying to regain composure.

With a new angle from which to examine the case, Roy went through the files about the investigation of Wesley Wright's case another time. There wasn't any evidence that could contradict Kain's version. The investigation had been rushed at that time. The media had been all over it, and as somebody had to be tried in such a repercussive case, Wesley had been unceremoniously blamed. Mustang hadn't heard of the case only because he was in Ishbal at the time.

When the colonel finally left his office, he found everybody in silence, waiting for him to tell them what had happened. Havoc hadn't come back yet, and they were all worried about Fuery.

Roy took a seat just as Jean arrived. Now the group, who had been looking at Roy and waiting for him to say something, all turned to Havoc in expectation.

"How is he?" Falman asked.

"Quiet. Didn't want to talk to me," Havoc said, obviously as worried as they were. "But I think he looked a bit better. I don't know what you said, boss, but I think he calmed down a little."

Roy thought he should be happy that he had helped at least a little, but he wasn't. He hadn't made any progress. He was an alchemist and he was their superior. He was supposed to look out for his team. And still, all he could do was say a few words and hope they would make Fuery feel better, despite all the hallucinations that were constantly tormenting him.

Mustang finally told them about what had happened in the interrogation room, omitting some details. He could tell the others Andrew had found some buttons to push and had upset Fuery, but if they wanted to know what it was that made Fuery so nervous, the sergeant should explain it himself. If he felt like it, of course.

"An accident? We've been cursing Wesley all this time and it was a freaking _accident_?" Edward bristled, standing up simply out of irritation, but sitting down again soon.

"But why didn't Wesley try to help him? Why didn't he write a letter, or something?" Alphonse asked.

Mustang sank on his chair as he remembered something that had completely slipped his mind in the last few days. He opened his desk drawer and pulled an envelope out of it. When he had visited the city prison, a prisoner had given him that letter and asked him to take it to his wife. If Sergeant Bentham, the prison ward, was keeping that man's letters, could he have done the same to some letter Wesley might have written?

"Can I see it?" Breda asked once Roy explained to them about his apparently pointless visit to the prison.

Roy gave him the envelope without saying anything. He hadn't even opened it, busy as he had been. The red-haired soldier opened the envelope, which hadn't been glued, and a small piece of paper fell on his lap. "Colonel, take a look at this," he said, handing it to Mustang.

Roy got the piece of paper and could barely believe what was written on it.

"_If you want to know the truth about Wesley, talk to Morgan Davis. Cell 344."_

"Let me see the letter," Mustang asked and read it quickly. It was definitely nothing more than a personal letter. The man was asking his wife about their kids and saying that he missed them, and others things.

Angry that he had ignored a lead that was right there for days, Roy told Breda to mail the letter to the guy's wife and stood up. He needed to talk to this Morgan Davis, whoever he was.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye, you're coming with me," he ordered plainly, heading to the door.

"Yes, Sir," Riza replied, relieved to see Roy treat her as usual again. He depended a lot on her and although it was a bother sometimes, Hawkeye had to admit she had missed it when Roy was upset with her and not asking for her help if he could avoid it.

They left for the prison in a hurry, hoping this Morgan Davis could be useful.

"Davis? Why do you want to talk to him?" Bentham asked, in a tone that was close to insubordination.

"Did he know Wesley Wright?"

"They shared a cell, why?"

"We need to talk to him," Mustang insisted.

"I don't think he can help. The guy is slow in the head, you know?"

"Sergeant Bentham, I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself and take us to Davis," Roy said.

Bentham scratched his balding head and mumbled, "Follow me, Sir." They walked down to an interrogation room, and Bentham soon brought an old man, handcuffed but apparently harmless. Mustang dismissed Bentham somewhat rudely, and they were left alone with Morgan Davis at last.

Morgan had gray hair and a beard that barely hid a couple of scars he had on his face. The man was probably into fighting, but not very good at it. His eyes stopped at Hawkeye, then turned to Mustang, studying him in silence. The colonel introduced himself and his lieutenant before they all sat down.

"Mr. Davis, I understand you knew Wesley Wright?" Mustang spoke.

"Morgan. No need to call me that," the guy said. "That's right. I knew the poor bastard."

"Do you know anything about his nephew Andrew Wright?"

"All that crap that happened was an accident," Morgan said, raising his voice a little.

"We know. We're looking into his case and trying to help Andrew. We know about his abilities."

"You do?" Morgan asked suspiciously.

Roy explained to him about how the boy had used the symbol that had caused the accident on Sergeant Fuery and how they were having a hard time trying to reverse the alchemical reaction. Morgan was rather surprised, but apparently more willing to help them now.

"The old doctor Wright was a genius," Morgan told them. "But it seems he went wrong with that symbol. He was a psychiatrist and he wanted to read his patients' minds. The poor guy had created the symbol, but was too afraid to test it, so he just drew it and left it there."

Mustang and Hawkeye listened attentively as Morgan explained everything to them. Scared as he was, Wesley had spent three days trying to summon up the courage to step on the symbol. But that never happened, as one morning, Andrew, still very young at the time, unlocked the door to the office and walked in, unaware of the symbol on the floor.

Wesley's symbol however, hadn't worked as expected. It had turned the kid into a screaming lunatic, and the neighbors called the police when Wesley couldn't calm his nephew down. After that, the investigation that took place did little to help. Wesley was arrested, but still continued his research. He managed to understand what had gone wrong, but it was already too late.

"Wesley wrote quite a few letters to Andrew, but the doctors at the nuthouse complained about that. They said it was all a bunch of bullshit and then Sergeant Bentham said Wesley wasn't allowed to send letters anymore," Morgan explained.

"You don't happen to have any of these letters, do you? Or any of his research?" Mustang asked.

"If you want his research, I have a big stack of paper hidden inside the mattress in my cell," Morgan said. "Like I said, Wesley was smart. A smart guy don't trust the police. I kept the stuff because he asked me to, but I didn't know what to do with it."

"Can we see it?" Mustang asked hopefully.

"You can, but it's useless. Wesley couldn't find a way to break the mind connection."

"Not without tearing the mind of the person apart," Roy said, feeling his stomach drop.

"No, he said he couldn't find a way to break the connection without separating the mind from the body or something. He said it would put his nephew in a coma," Morgan said.

Mustang raised his head, a smile taking shape in his face. Morgan wasn't slow in the head at all. He had just given Mustang a reason to believe they might finally be able to solve the problem.

"I need Wesley's research," he said, a spark of insanity flashing in his eyes. The mad scientist that lived inside every alchemist had just taken control over the colonel.

Edward was almost dozing off on his chair when Mustang walked into the office room in the headquarters, followed by Hawkeye, and placed a pile of papers on the closest desk.

"Wesley's research," he explained, as everyone in the room cast confused looks at him. "Nobody sleeps, eats or leaves this room until we've examined it all."

He wouldn't have needed to say it though, because Edward and Alphonse sat down by the desk immediately, really looking forward to taking a look at the late Wesley's work. They spent the next hour reading and barely talking to each other, while Havoc, Breda, Falman and Hawkeye focused on the already accumulating everyday paperwork.

"If we use our own research to create a symbol, we can tear Fuery's mind apart and induce some split personality disorder," Edward said, showing Roy some notes from a coffee-stained page.

"But if we use Wesley's research instead, we can separate his mind from his body and induce a coma," Roy said.

"I know how to keep a mind and a body together," Edward said with a confident smile. "Wouldn't be my first time doing that," he added, placing a hand on Alphonse's shoulder.

Edward got a blank sheet of paper and started drawing the symbol he had used to bring his brother back. He then took a symbol that Wesley had included in his notes and drew it in a separate sheet of paper.

"If we superpose the two symbols…" the blond alchemist said, placing the page with Wesley's symbol over the other. "…this is what we get."

The three alchemists looked at Wesley's symbol and noticed some faint details from Edward's drawing underneath that didn't overlap. Together, the two symbols could form another one.

"Isn't that human transmutation?" Mustang asked, uncertain.

"No, it's just the mind. We aren't reconstructing a body and his mind is already in place. We are just breaking the connection without separating the mind from the rest," Edward explained.

Roy was speechless. He himself was a very good alchemist, but he had to admit this kind of alchemy was Ed's field of expertise, not his. They went through all of Wesley's research again, to be sure they wouldn't make any mistakes like Wright had done, but they got to the same conclusion once more. That new symbol should work. They should be able to return both Andrew and Kain to normal.

* * *

**A/N: **Be brave guys! Only one more chapter to come! I hope you enjoyed this one and will leave a review! Thanks a lot to everyone for reading and reviewing! See you next Friday!


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **No, FMA doesn't belong to me...

I want to say thanks to The Great Butler and Sonar for your reviews!

I also want to say thanks to my great beta-reader, Ssadropout!

And of course, sorry for the delay in posting this last chapter. I had internet problems...

* * *

**Chapter 11  
**

There was still light and the sun hadn't set yet when Fuery, who had been sleeping on the couch, woke up to a knock on the door. It took him a few seconds to realize who was waiting outside. Voices screamed inside his head, and the sergeant opened the door to find Second Lieutenant Breda.

"They did it, man," the soldier announced with a wide smile on his face.

"What?"

"The symbol, they reversed it."

"Could it work?" Fuery asked with uncertainty.

"It worked fine on Andrew. You're next, man."

Breda thought that he wouldn't forget that relieved smile playing on Sergeant Fuery's face so soon. The red-haired soldier drove the sergeant to the headquarters and to a laboratory on the first floor of the building. General Grumman was waiting outside the door of the lab, talking to Mustang. When Kain saw the old man he saluted him immediately. Grumman saluted him back then looked down as if measuring the distance between them.

"Oh, I think I'm too close. Sorry," Grumman said, taking a step backwards.

"I'm all right, sir," Fuery replied quickly, slightly embarrassed.

Mustang finished his conversation with the general and walked into the lab with Fuery. Edward and Alphonse were already in there. They had pushed all the tables, chairs, and boxes close to the walls to make room to draw a big symbol on the ground. That symbol was way more complicated than the symbol that had caused the mind connections.

Fuery noticed Roy say something and did his best to pay attention to him, but it was hard. Many different voices resonated in his head again, originating from the memories of not only Ed, Al and Roy, but also from the people standing outside the lab.

"Did you hear me, Sergeant?"

"What?"

"Just go ahead, step on it!" Mustang said again, louder this time.

Kain felt like butterflies were flying in his stomach. The last time he had stepped on an alchemical symbol his life had become one huge mess. But he knew he could trust his friends, and they wouldn't ask him to try stepping on that symbol unless it was completely safe.

And so he finally walked forward, stepping in the middle of the alchemical drawing and closing his eyes as a bright light emerged from underneath his feet. So bright was the light that everyone else in the room had to close their eyes.

Fuery opened his eyes again, not hearing anything around him. There was just silence. Mustang, Edward and Alphonse were still there, but there wasn't a single noise to be heard. Fuery still felt quite nervous until he heard Alphonse's voice speak.

"Are you okay?"

And then everything went quiet. Kain couldn't even speak at first. It was almost like he didn't want to break the silence.

"I can't hear any more voices. It's… just quiet."

Edward knelt down and touched the ground, deforming it with his alchemy, so as to deactivate the symbol. Mustang finally opened the door, and Fuery walked by him, stepping outside. He could hear his friends talking, but none of their memories could reach him now.

He looked behind when someone placed a hand on his shoulder, and realized it was Mustang.

"Welcome back, Sergeant."

"Thank you, Sir," he said with a confident smile.

Kain lost count of how many pats on the back he got, as everybody was very happy for him. They started walking back to the office, when Kain remembered something he wanted to ask about.

"How's Andrew?"

"Delighted to finally hear nothing," Riza told him.

"Talking about him…" Havoc said, pointing at the end of the corridor, where they saw two guards taking the blond alchemist, Andrew Wright.

Wright stopped walking, looking at Fuery.

"You probably expect me to apologize for doing that to you," he said. "I'll just say I'm sorry for not having another choice."

"I guess I understand how desperate you were," Kain said. "I hope you can move on with your life now."

"For the first time in years, my future looks bright," Andrew said, smiling.

That was his first honest smile in a long time. All the smiles they had seen on his face before were mean. Nothing but mischief and sarcasm on them. But now that he wasn't haunted by images of people's pasts anymore, Andrew could finally enjoy the feeling of an optimistic grin.

"What's going to happen to him?" Fuery asked Mustang once the other soldiers had taken Andrew away.

"He's going to be charged with conspiracy and disturbing the peace, but we're already considering his situation. He won't get a long time in prison. Probably no more than a few months."

"That's good. I wouldn't like him to go through more than he's already been through. It would be nice if he didn't have to go to prison at all."

"It's not that simple, unfortunately. But I'm sure he won't worry so much about a few months in a prison cell after all he has experienced."

They all walked into their office to write down the reports, and when everyone thought Mustang would dismiss Kain, the colonel called him to his private office.

"Have a seat," Mustang ordered, waiting for Kain to take his place on the opposite chair. "I like to think that everybody in this office trusts me and believes in my goals. But I know that you've seen a lot of things from my past that I'm not proud of."

Sergeant Fuery was quiet, still not quite getting what Mustang wanted to say.

"You saw what I did in Ishbal. If you don't want to work with me after all those memories you picked up from me, I can reassign you. I'll write a good recommendation letter if you need one."

Fuery wasn't certain of it, but he did have the impression that Mustang was a bit anxious about that matter. It was like he feared Kain's opinion of him had changed. And as a matter of fact, Roy did fear it. He remembered that the others had said Fuery looked up to him, and now he had this uncomfortable feeling that his subordinate had been disappointed once he saw Mustang's alchemy in the war.

"I… confess that I did have my doubts at first," Fuery started saying.

"I thought you would. At least now you know there's no such thing as a hero of war. Once you're out there, there's no glory, no romance. You just want to survive and not lose your friends. That's all."

"Do you regret it? Ishbal?"

"Every day," the colonel said with a sigh. "I wish there was anything I could do to change the past, but there isn't. So I'm trying to change the future. To prevent anything like that from happening again."

Fuery nodded with a serious expression, before replying, "I'm staying. I won't have it another way, sir. You haven't lost my trust."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"That's good," Roy said, feeling slightly relieved.

Fuery stood up, but Roy quickly said there was something else he needed him to do.

"What is it?"

"Remember what I said about dealing with your issues?"

"Yes?" Kain said, somewhat embarrassed.

"I had to call your father to tell him you were sick a few days ago. I was quite surprised to learn he didn't even know you were in the army."

Fuery nodded silently, but not looking down. He felt like a misbehaving child under the scrutinizing look of a strict teacher.

"I know things weren't easy between the two of you. But now he has to know you're all right. And you, Sergeant Fuery, are going to make that call and tell him you are okay," Mustang said, already picking up the phone and giving it to Fuery. "I'll be waiting outside. Take your time," he added, before leaving Fuery alone in the office, staring anxiously at the black phone.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

The afternoon sun shone through an open window inside the house, reflecting on a brown bottle on a kitchen cabinet. Sitting on a chair by the table and staring at that bottle, was a salt-and-pepper-haired man, slightly overweight, with calloused hands and dirty fingernails.

The man with gray hair stood up, ignoring the pain in his knees, worn-out after many years of heavy work. He took a few uncertain steps to the kitchen cabinet, looking at the bottle. He hated himself for even thinking about it, but where could he find the strength to keep away from it? With a curse and a sudden rush of anger, he turned around and dashed to the living room without the bottle, and slouched in his armchair. Five years. Five years sober. Not a sip of alcohol. And now, when he thought he had finally overcome it, the same hell had started again. That horrible, mind-crippling disease had taken his son.

Eli was just wallowing in the memories of his sick wife and his little boy, always so small for the clothes he wore. Eli wanted him to grow to be tall and strong and unconsciously bought his kid clothes that were still too big for him. The phone rang a few times before the old miner actually noticed it.

"Hello," Eli spoke in a listless voice, picking it up.

"Father?"

"Kain? Is that you?" Eli asked, standing up startled. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine… I… Everything's okay. I just… need to talk to you."

Half an hour had gone by when Fuery walked out of Mustang's office, stopping by the desk where the colonel had been working.

"You were right, sir. I needed to deal with this… problem I had. Thank you," Kain said.

"Did it go well?" Roy asked.

"Much better than I had expected."

Mustang just nodded with a knowing expression. Sergeant Fuery left with Lieutenant Hawkeye to get his stuff from her apartment and go back to his own place.

"Tough day that was," Havoc mumbled as Roy put his files and paperwork back in the desk drawer and prepared to leave.

"Yes," Mustang agreed absently.

"Let's go to the bar and have a drink to forget all this," Breda suggested and then added, "Your first round's on me, boss. You deserve it."

Mustang got up and put his jacket on, thinking of what Fuery had said about alcohol before. At last he turned to Second Lieutenant Breda saying, "Thank you, but I'd rather stay sober tonight."

"Why?" Havoc asked this time.

Falman and Breda also stared at him as though they were wondering if Mustang could be sick or something.

"Alcohol is the coward's way out," Roy said, making sure he had his house keys in his pocket and leaving the office alone.

"Is he sick? He's sick, right?" Breda asked Falman and Havoc.

"He doesn't show any signs of disease," Falman replied.

"Go figure…" Havoc complained.

They finished putting their stuff away and also left for their homes.

**About a couple of months later**

Second Lieutenant Havoc stood in the middle of the train station, hectic as it usually was at that time of day. The train he was expecting had just come to a halt and the doors flung open, allowing the tired passengers to come out. Some of those people had been on board for more than twelve hours as the vehicle slowly dragged itself through the countryside, which was pockmarked with hills and valleys.

Havoc looked at the passengers, trying to identify the one he was waiting for. Jean had never seen the man in his life, but he should be able to find him. And as the crowd dissipated and the flow of people lessened, the soldier finally spotted a slightly plump man about 5'2'' feet tall, dark spiky hair worn in a crew cut and sprinkled with white, his round face puzzled as he looked around for somebody. The family resemblance was quite clear despite the age and weight difference, Jean thought.

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Eli Fuery?" he addressed the man, who looked at him a little startled.

"Yes, that's me," the man answered.

"The sergeant was going to come pick you up, but there have been some problems with a main communication line and he was called to fix it. He asked me to come tell you," Havoc explained.

"Sergeant? You mean my son, Kain?"

"Yes, your son," Havoc confirmed it.

"Oh. I'll wait here, then," the man said, putting down his shabby suitcase.

"No need," Havoc replied. "I asked the colonel if you could wait at the headquarters. Sergeant Fuery needs to report before he leaves anyway."

"I thought he had managed to take the day off."

"He had, but we don't have so many people available who can actually understand the new phone network that was installed in central command," Havoc explained. "General Hapkins ordered him to come. It was sort of an emergency, but I believe it shouldn't take long."

Eli nodded uncertainly and followed the lieutenant to an army car. They were at Mustang's office in less than half an hour, Eli staring out the window of the car at the tall modern buildings all the way to the headquarters. He greeted Mustang and the other people in the room with a stern voice and strong handshake and sat down on a chair that was offered to him. He stayed there quietly, not wishing to disturb anybody's work. Breda offered him some tea, but Eli declined it politely. Heymans walked back to his desk, casting a quick glance at Kain's father. The man sat up stiffly, his back perfectly parallel to the chair, his legs forming a perfect right angle with the floor. He looked more like a sculpture, terribly out of place in that room. He barely moved for the next hour or so, nor did he make a sound. His tense bulky figure however, could not go unnoticed regardless of how quiet he was.

Finally the silence was broken when Sergeant Fuery walked in through the open door, toolbox in hand, apprehension written all over his face as he handed Mustang a report.

"Everything's working again, Sir. If you can just sign this for me, my father must be waiting at the station," he said.

"Lieutenant Havoc picked him up," Mustang said, pointing his index finger at Eli, who had finally risen from his chair.

Kain turned around, finally noticing Eli's presence. The stout man, not much taller than his son, looked nervous, like facing the uttermost dilemma.

"I… I didn't know you were here," Kain said, putting down the toolbox. "How was your trip?"

"Long. But okay."

The sergeant got the signed report from Mustang and no sooner had he turned back to his father than the old man pulled him to a hug that all the others thought could snap somebody's backbone.

"Look at you, kid. A grown man," Eli said, stepping away, a calloused hand still holding Kain's shoulder.

The sergeant smiled disconcertedly, but happy somewhat.

"Did I imagine it, or the sergeant's old man was almost crying?" Havoc asked when both father and son had walked out of the room, Kain looking sort of relieved, though still a bit embarrassed.

"I noticed it too," Hawkeye said, going back to her own reports.

"I don't know if I'd be able to forgive my old man if I were the sergeant," Breda said.

Once the case of the mind-reader alchemist had been solved, Fuery had finally felt a little more comfortable talking about it and had told his friends a little about the problems he'd had with his father.

"Time is said to heal many things and five years is a long time," Falman said. "Mr. Eli is lucky his son turned out fine despite coming from such a dysfunctional background. About 78% of the criminals in Central prison interviewed ten years ago were said t-"

"Falman, you really should stop reading statistical data," Breda complained, throwing a crumpled piece of paper at the warrant officer.

"People are not numbers," Hawkeye said, barely looking away from her work. That reminded everybody that they too, were supposed to be working, and everybody dropped the topic.

As the end of the afternoon approached, Havoc picked up and left, followed by Breda a few minutes later and Falman when it was almost getting dark. Roy stayed because he still had some documents to review, and as usual, Hawkeye kept him company, cross-checking some inventory reports.

"So, your place tonight?" Roy asked Riza once they were alone.

"Unless you have changed your mind," she replied. "Just try not to come to the office singing tomorrow. Last week everybody was talking about it, wondering who is… 'this new girlfriend that made you so light-hearted'… like they said."

"Relax, they don't know it's you," Mustang said laughing, spinning in his chair.

"Also, you sing terribly off key, according to them," Riza continued.

"Yeah, I thought they were trying too hard not to burst out in laughter," Roy admitted laughing. "Anyway, let's finish up here and I'll meet you at your place at around 10," he added, standing up.

"I'll be waiting," Riza replied, as Roy stole a quick kiss from her.

They left the headquarters in different directions, knowing their relationship should be a secret for quite a long time. There were risks involved and they couldn't take those, but being discreet was their forte and they would hide their relationship from everyone as long as they needed. There was no rush. Being together without anyone talking about it wasn't that bad.

**-The End-**

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**A/N:** All right, that's all! I hope you liked the end. I'd appreciate some reviews with opinions about it. It will probably take me a while to come back with a new story, but I hope I will some time. Thanks a lot to everybody! See you some other time!


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